The Epic True Impending Love Story
by SKurtHEvans
Summary: The Epic True Impending Love Story of Fishlips and Ladyface-After moving to Lima, Ohio, Sam Evans was prepared to hate his new life, but with the fierce countertenor, Kurt Hummel, at his side, he found the good and fell in love along the way.
1. In Which Sam is in Danger of Death

_A/N: Before you begin, I started this story before we knew much about Sam. There are certain aspects to him that are completely my own, but I have tried to keep him true to the canon!Sam. Also, short chapters are short. I am sorry about that. And any questions that you might have, just drop me a review or send me a message and I will be happy to answer them. Flames keep Sam warm in Narnia, but they keep him in there longer, so I suggest you don't try it._

_Broad Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of these characters. I partly own the ridiculous situations they end up in, but that's it. _

Taking in the entrance of William McKinley High School, Sam Evans was not impressed. This was nothing like his old school back in Nashville. The exterior looked antiquated compared to the sleek modern look he was used to. He sighed deeply. Why did his Dad have to transfer now in his junior year?

He trudged up the steps, not wanting to face his new classmates. He could already hear the whispers behind his back. He wasn't a freak, he promised. He was just a new kid. Sam kept his head down and tugged on his blue and yellow letterman jacket, using it to disappear. Not paying attention, he ran directly into someone.

"Crap, I'm so sorry!" He looked up apologetically at the face of a woman with short blonde hair and a sneer.

"Hey, watch where you're going, Fishlips. Other people are walking here."

Was she kidding or something? "Why weren't you watching where you were going?"

The woman had the gall to look affronted. "I'm Sue Sylvester. Since I don't recognize you, Fishlips, I'm going to assume that you're new and that's the only reason that you're still breathing for asking such a pointless question. Everyone else is cowering."

Sam peered around her. Sure enough, most of the students around were pressed against the lockers and looking at him with a face full of pure wonder. "I don't scare easily."

He felt a hand on his forearm and a soft voice from behind his left ear. "You'll have to forgive my friend, Coach Sylvester. He's new."

Sue focused her attention on the new voice. "No issue, ladyface. Just tell your boy to watch his back. And be at Cheerios practice. We're retooling last year's Madonna number since your compadre turned her ungrateful back on us. What do you think, Santana on the JT vocals?"

"Well, actually-"

"Don't care. Be there, ladyface." Sam felt the sigh of relief against his ear.

"You should be relieved that she didn't try to drop you here."

He turned around to confront his savior and was surprised by what he saw. A boy, slightly shorter than him, dressed in a red and white cheerleading outfit with 'WMHS' emblazoned on the front and with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen.

"Thank you for that, I think?"

"No issue." The boy shrugged and smiled slightly. "I'm going to guess that you're new to the area. Most of the freshmen have heard the horror stories about Sue Sylvester enough to not confront her like that."

Sam laughed. "Yeah," He stuck out a hand to shake. "Sam Evans, junior."

"Kurt Hummel, junior."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

The warning bell rang. Kurt winced. "Crap. I should probably get going. Where's your first class?"

Sam consulted his schedule. "Uh…Spanish III…Schuester…Room 303."

Kurt chuckled. "Opposite direction from me, I'm afraid. But Schue's cool. He's the fourth classroom to the right on the second hall on the left."

"Cool. So maybe I'll see you later?" After all, Kurt seemed like a pretty okay guy.

"Yeah, maybe. Bye Sam." He sauntered off and joined a black girl in a bright orange jacket and hat.

"Bye Kurt." Maybe moving to Lima, Ohio wouldn't be completely awful.


	2. In Which Finn Really is a Massive Idiot

Sam found the room that Kurt had described and slipped into a seat at the back. The classroom was almost full with girls and boys gossiping and recounting their summers. He noticed several more students in the same cheerleading outfit as Kurt (not exactly the same of course: the girls wore skirts). He wondered idly what Kurt would look like in a skirt and shook his head. Where had that come from?

At the sounding of the bell, a tall man entered the room and shut the door behind him. "Everybody, welcome back to Spanish! Since it's our first day back, I'm going to go easy on you and let you refresh your memories on what we learned all the way back in Spanish II last year."

There were a couple of cheers heard around the room. Sam smirked. Spanish came easily to him. He needed no refresher.

"I see that we have a new student. Sam, can you stand up and introduce yourself?"

He groaned quietly but acquiesced. "My name's Sam Evans. I'm from Nashville, Tennessee. Me encanta la clase de español."

Mr. Schuester smiled at him. "Gracias, Senor Evans. You can sit now." He turned his attention to the board. "Everybody, let's start on the exercises on page 200 of the textbook on your desk. All of them. You can work with your neighbor if you need to."

Sam opened the book and began the simple translations when he felt a poking in his ribs from his neighbor. "Yes?"

"You're Sam, right?" The speaker was a tall brunette boy with a manic smile on his face.

He chose not to make some sort of sarcastic remark about how he had just introduced himself. "Yeah, that's me."

"Finn Hudson." He shook Sam's hand energetically.

"Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too. I mean, I thought you looked pretty cool because of the letterman jacket, but now, I find out that you know Spanish? It's like someone sent you to me."

"Or something like that."

"Okay, can you help me?"

"On which one?"

"…All of them?"

Sam smiled thinly. This guy must be dumber than a sack of bricks. "Why not?"

"Thanks!"

They worked through their translations together diligently, Sam correcting all of Finn's errors. Mr. Schuester came over to check their progress. "This is great, guys! I didn't know if you would be up to speed with us, Sam, but you've finished all of your work and helped Finn!" He patted Sam on the back and moved onto the next table of students struggling with irregular verbs.

"So Sam, do you play football?"

As if the letterman jacket didn't answer that for him. "Yeah."

"What position?"

"I was the quarterback at my last high school."

Finn's smile slipped slightly. "That's my position. But don't worry. I'm sure that Coach Tanaka can find something for you. Tryouts are today after school."

Apparently Sam was trying out for football. Awesome. "Sounds like fun."


	3. In Which Sam Doesn't Understand McKinley

Sam drifted through his English class next period. They were so far behind where he had been in Nashville, it wasn't funny. He nearly banged his head against the desk when he heard the teacher prattle off an identical list of novels from Sam's sophomore English class to read. Fantastic. Another year suffering through _The Old Man and the Sea. _Watching the clock tick down to 11:30, he shot out of his seat as soon as the bell rang.

He moved through the lunch line mindlessly, picking up some kind of mystery meat. At least it wasn't moving. Sam found a seat outside at the end of a table. He nodded to the group of kids already sitting there before digging in. And then spitting it out. Wow, that possibly could be the most disgusting thing ever.

He flipped open his copy of _Good Omens_. Nothing cheered him up quicker than the angel and demon racing to prevent the Apocalypse. He was to the drunken conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley about the bird and the mountain at the end of the universe before someone pushed his book down.

Sam looked up annoyed. It was a girl wearing a cheerleading outfit much like Kurt's (except with the skirt) and a giant grin. "Can I help you?"

"You're new right?"

"No, I've just been lurking in the shadows for the past couple of years and finally decided that I need a tan."

She giggled obnoxiously. "You're funny." She touched his arm.

"Thanks." He tried slowly moving his arm out of her reach, but damn if the girl wasn't persistent.

"I think we should date."

"And why do you think this?"

"You're like totally hot and obviously you're a jock." She gestured to the letterman jacket. At least someone got it.

"So I'm two for two on your dating requirement list?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Thank you for asking, but no, I'm not interested in dating you."

"Why? You have a girlfriend back home or something?"

"Yeah, that's it." That wasn't it at all. He just wasn't interested, but he wasn't getting into that with her now. He knew that he was different. Unlike his classmates, he just wasn't interested in girls. He wasn't interested in anyone. He just had resigned himself to being basically asexual.

"Oh." She sounded disappointed.

For some reason, he felt guilty. "Look, you're a cheerleader. I'm sure that there are plenty of guys dying to date you."

"You really think so?"

"I-I don't know what that is. What is that?" He cocked his head to listen to the faint music.

Suddenly, a group of students decked out in New York tee shirts and gold chains infiltrated the courtyard carrying the source of the music: an old boom box.

The girl snorted. "Great. It's them."

He turned, confused. "Who?"

"The Glee club. They kind of suck."

The club seemed to find its formation before a bespectacled boy in a wheelchair began rapping before a bald guy continued where he had left off. Sam tapped his foot to the beat, recognizing the song as Empire State of Mind.

"They're not bad." He mentioned to the cheerleader casually.

She huffed and walked off. What a strange school.

A black girl sang the chorus accompanied by a pretty dark haired girl who stood out in her short skirt. Sam realized with a jolt that this black girl was the same that Kurt had been talking to this morning. So did that mean…

Yes! Dancing up with the rest of the club was Kurt Hummel, out of his cheerleading outfit and into a New York tee shirt and tight jeans. He didn't understand why he was so drawn to Kurt. Maybe because Kurt was the first one to befriend him at McKinley? He pushed that thought back. This was no time for an in depth analysis.

He also noticed Finn from Spanish class dancing spastically with an Asian guy. He shook his head. Finn certainly was one of a kind.

The club seemed to have reached their grand finale and went at it with all that they possessed. They were better than good. They were great. He surveyed the rest of the students eating outside. No one else seemed to be paying any attention to them. How could they ignore such a fantastic act in front of them?

Finally the club finished, panting slightly. Sam clapped, realizing that he was the only one. Finn beamed at him. "You're still coming to football, right?" He called.

"Yes, Finn, I will be there."

He smiled and waved bye to Finn before finding Kurt staring back at him. "Thank you." He mouthed.

Sam shrugged. After all, he was only giving credit where credit was so obviously due.


	4. In Which Sam's Arm Causes Problems

After suffering through Pre-Calculus and US History, Sam trudged toward the front doors. Maybe Finn would for-

"Hey Sam!" Someone out there obviously had it in for him.

He pasted on a smile and turned around. "Finn!"

"Hey man, where are you going?"

Best course of action: play dumb. "Home?"

"No, football!"

"Football? Oh, the tryouts! I forgot."

"It's okay, man. Happens to me all the time."

Finn led him unwillingly through the crowded halls to the boys' locker room. "C'mon Sam."

The blonde boy groaned, but followed him. He really did not want to play football at McKinley. The only good thing about moving to a new school was that he didn't have to deal with the entire jock persona he was expected to have. Couldn't he just be himself for once?

"Gather round ladies." A strong looking woman herded the gathered boys to the benches in the middle of the room.

"That's Coach Tanaka?"

"No."

"My name is Coach Bieste. That's B-i-e-s-t-e. Pronounced like "Beast." I am your new football coach. Coach Tanaka suffered a nervous breakdown after he left his fiancée before their wedding. I am a state championships winner and I am here to whip you girls into shape. Now, get dressed and we're going to run some drills."

Sam borrowed a tee shirt and shorts from Finn and changed quickly. Out on the field, he recognized the bald guy and the Asian guy from the glee club.

He ran through tires and threw around a football with Finn. Coach Bieste came over and watched them, only to leave with a smug smile on her face. Creepy. Finally she dismissed the team.

Sam made to leave. "Not you, Blondie. We need to talk."

He added 'kill Finn' to his mental to-do list. "Yes?"

"Where did you get an arm like that?"

"Genetically? My parents."

"Well, wherever you got it, you have the most control and force behind a ball that I have seen in recent years and believe me, I've seen some talented kids."

"Thanks, Coach."

"I just want to tell you, if you want the quarterback spot, it's yours."

Wait, what? "I thought that was Finn's spot?"

"Hudson? I mean, he's good, but you're better. Much better. Think it over kid."

"I will."

He pulled his feet towards the locker room, mind occupied. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't he just finish high school in relative obscurity? Tugging off the clothes that Finn leant him, he grabbed a towel and stepped into the abandoned showers.

Mulling over what to tell Finn, he began to sing softly. It was a private thing he did whenever he felt overwhelmed. In the music, he could lose himself.

"Whoa! Where did you learn to sing like that?" Sam turned around so quickly he slipped on the slick tile.

Finn must have been a ninja in another life. "That's a little creepy, dude."

"Where did you learn to sing like that?"

"I didn't?"

"Wherever you learned it, it was really good! And we need more members for our glee club!"

"And?"

"You should totally join!"

Hmm… Glee… With Finn. And Kurt. "Why not?"


	5. In Which Sam is Introduced to Cliches

Finn dragged Sam to the other side of the school. It seemed that he was being dragged around more than usual here at McKinley. Finn stopped in front of a large room. "You ready for this?"

No. "Sure."

"Positive? No coming back after this."

Let me out of here. "I'm fine."

"Okay then." He pushed open the door and Sam was greeted by twelve pairs of inquisitive eyes. He instantly ducked his head down. He wasn't shy but this level of concentration was enough to unnerve the most confident of people.

"Everybody, this is Sam. Sam, this is everybody."

He peeked through his long bangs at the club. He recognized several from the performance at lunch.

"Sam, you can sing?" He heard a familiar voice ask.

"Mr. Schuester? What are you doing here?"

"Schue's the coach of Glee. Let me introduce everybody." Pointing to each member, he introduced them all. "Mike," Asian guy from football, "Tina," Goth Asian girl, "Brittany," Blonde cheerleader with a blank expression on her face, "Santana," Latina cheerleader, "Quinn," Blonde cheerleader with an intelligent expression on her face, "Puck," Bald guy from football, "Artie," Bespectacled boy in a wheelchair, "Rachel," Brunette girl appraising him carefully, "New girl," Short Asian girl, "Mercedes," Black girl that had sung lead at lunch, "and Kurt," who just looked like Kurt, albeit rather adorable. Sam's eyes widened slightly. Where the hell had that come from? "And I'm Finn but you already knew that."

"Thank you for that, Finn," Rachel beamed at him. "Did you catch that, Sunshine?" She looked expectantly to the Asian girl beside her.

"Yes, I believe so."

"Fantastic. Well, fellow Glee clubbers, I'd say that we need to hear them sing."

"Whatever, Rachel." Sam smirked at their apathetic response. Apparently Rachel was the Queen Bee around here.

"Sunshine, you're first."

"Okay."

The small Asian girl stepped up to the front of the class. "Hi. I will be singing Listen from the movie Dreamgirls."

She started out softly, but was hitting her stride by the chorus. Whoa. Sam watched the other students express the same shock and admiration he was feeling. Sunshine finished on a high note. The entire club gave her a standing ovation. Everyone but Rachel. She was seething.

"All right Sunshine! Welcome to New Directions!"

Finn turned to him eagerly. "Sam?"

Really? Following that? "You sure about this?"

"Positive. You're great!"

Yeah, that did nothing for his confidence, but he made his way to the front of the room anyway.

"So, Sam, what are you singing for us today?"

"Um… I guess I'm Yours by Jason Mraz?"

"Alright then."

Sam started singing. This was so weird, singing in front of people. He closed his eyes. If they hated it, he didn't want to watch.

As he reached the chorus, he started to get more confident and forget the room around him. He was at home, singing in the shower, rocking out where no one else could hear him. He finished the last note and was surprised to hear applause.

"Sam that was great!" Mr. Schuester jumped out of his chair, grinning madly.

He smiled at all of the praise.

"Dude, your mouth is huge. How many tennis balls can you fit in there?"

What? "I don't know. I've never had any balls in my mouth. You?"

"Wow. Innuendo much?" The club dissolved into giggles at Kurt's response. Yeah, Glee wouldn't be that bad.


	6. In Which Sam Spites His Best Friend

Sam left the meeting feeling lighter than he had in a while. Glee Club was fun; he would have to thank Finn for insisting that he join.

"Hey Blondie, wait up!" He turned around knowing he wouldn't have if it had been any other person and not entirely sure why that was.

"Yes Kurt?"

"Two things: one, you really should look into some special color treated shampoo for your hair. It's much better for it-"

"I don't dye my hair."

"Anyone with eyes can see how untrue that is."

Sam laughed. It seemed that Kurt had caught him, but he was in no way telling the other boy that. "I believe you had something else to say to me?"

"You sang really well in there. I was impressed."

"Thanks." They stopped in front of a big black SUV with spinners on the wheels.

Sam fished for the keys to his pick-up truck and noticed Kurt doing the same. "It was nice meeting you, Sam."

"Yeah, you too." Sam climbed into the truck and was shocked to see the smaller boy settling into the SUV. He gaped. "That's your car?"

"It would be strange if I was getting into it and it wasn't, now wouldn't it? Why?"

"Nothing. Just…surprising, I guess."

Kurt smiled. "I guess I'm just full of surprises."

Wasn't that the truth? Sam waited until Kurt had pulled his SUV out of the parking space before doing the same and following him out. They separated at the stop light in front of McKinley, Sam going to his home, Kurt presumably doing the same.

Sam's new house was only three or four minutes from the school, meaning he could roll out of bed every morning at seven thirty and not worry about missing school. It was rather plain on the outside, a mostly brick façade with white siding and blue shutters. He absently noted that they could probably do with a coat of paint. Climbing up the steps to the front door, he wondered how he could spend the rest of his afternoon, knowing the answer might be lying in wait on his Instant Messenger.

Unlocking the door and charging up the stairs to his room, he wondered. He wouldn't be online, would he? He had class. Only one way to find out, he thought as he powered up his laptop.

Watching as his contact list popped up, he shook his head. Of course he didn't go to class.

**Dragon_Slayer: ** Evans, what the hell? I missed you!

Shaking his head, he made to reply. It wasn't his fault his best friend was oblivious.

**Na'viRocky: ** In class? Did you forget that I moved?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Oh yeah, that's right. YOU ABANDONED ME TO LIVE WITH THE CULTURALLY ENLIGHTENED PEOPLE OF LIMA, OHIO!

And dramatic. He sighed.

**Na'viRocky:** Blaine, I did not transfer to spite you. I promise.

**Dragon_Slayer: **It feels that way. Who do you expect me to copy off of in English now?

**Na'viRocky: **Here's a wacky idea: Do it your own damn self.

**Dragon_Slayer: ***Gasp* How could you ever suggest such a horrendous thing?

**Na'viRocky:** I know. I'm terrible. So what's your excuse to get out of English now?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Food poisoning from that dreadful oatmeal in the cafeteria.

**Na'viRocky:** Wow. Nice.

**Dragon_Slayer: **It's completely plausible.

**Na'viRocky: **Not really.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Yes, but obviously Gertrude is out to get me. She poisoned it.

**Na'viRocky: **Gertrude is a ninety year old woman. Why would she be out to get you?

**Dragon_Slayer: **She simply can't stand the fact that obviously I cannot return any of her longing for me. Alas, she does not have a penis.

**Na'viRocky: **You would go for ninety year old penis?

**Dragon_Slayer: **I don't discriminate. So how about you? Making friends? Enemies? Sam, we have talked about this! MAKE FRIENDS WITH YOUR LIPS AND NOT WITH YOUR FIST!

**Na'viRocky: **What? That was one time and that kid deserved it.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Yes he did, but you are avoiding the question.

**Na'viRocky: **Yeah, some. I joined their football team today.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Anyone interesting (read: cute) there?

**Na'viRocky: **Not really.

**Dragon_Slayer:** That's right. You're asexual.

**Na'viRocky: **And you're a whore.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Sticks and stones. Why do I deal with you?

**Na'viRocky: **You love me?

**Dragon_Slayer: **No I don't. You refuse to tell me about your new friends.

**Na'viRocky: **Fine. I joined Glee club.

**Dragon_Slayer: **How is that possible? I spent years trying to convince you to join the Warblers!

**Na'viRocky:** One of the kids on the football team heard me singing in the shower and basically dragged me to the audition.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Whoa. Football players pulling your naked ass out of the shower to sing with them? I'm transferring right now.

**Na'viRocky: **You're ridiculous.

**Dragon_Slayer: **And you won't share your hot football playing boyfriend. So, Glee club? How are they?

**Na'viRocky: **They sang at lunch today, Blaine, and I swear, they might be better than the Warblers.

**Dragon_Slayer: **That's just blasphemy. And also lies. And not possible. It was a good day then? You think you'll make it?

Sam leaned back from the keyboard. Did he think he could make it? His mind flashed back to Kurt's smirk from their short conversation in the parking lot.

**Na'viRocky: **Yeah, I think I might.


	7. In Which PreCalculus is Stupid

It was a new week at William McKinley High School. Sam was surprised how well he was adjusting to the new environment. He had Gleeks (he had learned this was the nickname of the Glee club members) in all of his class and ate lunch with Finn, Mercedes, Tina, and Puck. The latter was quickly becoming a good friend.

"Dude, I don't know how you dealt with it. No chicks? I would have died."

"It was just one of those things, y'know?" He decided not to add that he really had no interest in girls anyway.

Puck patted his shoulder sympathetically. "It's time to right some wrongs then. You're a football player, dude. You're a stud. You can have any girl in the school. Except for Quinn Fabray. Do not even think about that."

"Or Rachel." Finn piped up.

"No one wants Rachel." Puck admonished him.

"You did that one time."

"That's only cause she's a hot Jew, but seriously, you listen to that girl too much, your brain will start to leak out of your ears."

Sam laughed gently. The Glee club was really pretty great.

After lunch and his US History class, Sam was snagged by Mr. Schuester on his way to Glee. "Sam, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure." Schue led him to his office and shut the door behind him.

"I've heard from your Pre-Calculus teacher that you've been having some trouble in there."

It was true. Numbers had never been his strong suit. "Yeah, so?"

"If your grades continue the way they are, you can't stay in Glee. Or football for that matter. And we need you, Sam. You're good and we need twelve members for Regionals."

Sam wasn't the best at math, but even he sensed a discrepancy here. "I thought we had thirteen?"

Schue sighed deeply. "We did, until Rachel decided to send Sunshine to a crack house and we lost her to Vocal Adrenaline."

The rumors were true. Rachel really was crazy. "So what do you want me to do about it?"

"I want to suggest a tutor. I know for a fact that Kurt is already in Calculus. He could help you."

Sam pretended to consider this, already knowing his answer. It was true that he was falling behind in Calculus and Kurt really was an awesome guy. "Sure."

Schue smiled widely. "Great!" He exited out of the other door to the practice room and Sam followed.

"Okay, couple announcements: it is true that Sunshine has left us for Vocal Adrenaline. It was an unfortunate turn of events that no one could have predicted or stopped."

"Yeah, except Rachel not doing it in the first place." Santana sneered.

"Santana, that's enough. It's not Rachel's fault."

"Mr. Schue, she did send her to a crack house." Kurt pointed out.

"It wasn't active." Rachel pouted.

"Guys, that's in the past now. We have to move on. Which brings me to my next piece of news: Kurt, you will be tutoring Sam in Pre-Cal. We can't afford to have him kicked out because of his grades."

"Will do, Mr. Schue." Kurt threw a smile in Sam's direction. For some reason, Sam's stomach flipped. Maybe something at lunch hadn't sat well with him?

Sam trudged up the riser and sat beside Kurt. Schue was at the front ranting about this week's theme, exposing your true self or something. He felt a nudge at his side and looked up. "Where are you having trouble?"

"All of it." He smiled sheepishly hoping that Kurt wouldn't think he was too stupid. "I'm awesome with words, but all of the numbers mess me up. My Algebra II teacher wasn't the best."

"That's fine. We can just start at the beginning and work through. What day is best for you?"

Sam considered this. "I have football Tuesdays and Thursdays and you know when Glee is, so I guess maybe Monday or Friday would work?"

"That's fine for me. I'll text you my address later, okay?"

His heart started pounding. "Yeah, that's fine." He settled back in his seat and watched Schue. He really should go to the doctor and find out what was up with him lately.


	8. In Which Finn Explains His House

The next Monday, Sam drove to Kurt's house. He wasn't familiar with this side of town, but it looked fairly well off. The address that Kurt had texted to him led to a rather nice two story white house. He parked outside, impressed.

He rang the doorbell and waited outside. "Finn Hudson, do not open that door!"

What? His subconscious question was answered as he was met by Finn. "What are you doing here, dude?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I live here."

"With Kurt?"

"Yeah, our parents got engaged and we live together. Not together together. Kurt is in the basement and I'm on the second floor."

Okay then. "Good to know. Is Kurt here?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Tutoring, Finn. Kurt's my tutor now."

A wave of realization seemed to sweep over Finn. "That's right! I forgot. Rachel tutors me every other day at-" He glanced down at his watch. "Crap, I should go then. Kurt's down in his room. Third door on the left." Finn pushed past Sam and left him in front of the open door.

"Weird."

He waited for any indication that he should enter the house and was soon greeted by a rather harried looking Kurt. "Hello Sam. I was just working on something."

"That's fine." He followed Kurt through the nicely decorated house down the stairs to the basement. "Nice room."

"I'm rather fond of it. So where do we need to start?"

Sam pulled out his Pre-Calculus book. "Probably trig. I just don't understand it."

Kurt pulled out a piece of paper and pencil. "Okay, it's not too bad. It is something that you have to memorize though…"

The younger boy worked through describing the different functions, explaining them better than any teacher ever had. He helped Sam through his assigned problems before looking at the clock.

"It's really late."

Sam looked up. It was almost eight. "Yeah, I should probably get going. Thanks a lot. I understand it now."

Kurt gave him a crooked smile as he led Sam to the front door. "No problem. It's my duty as a fellow Gleek after all. I'll see you in school tomorrow."

"Yeah." He got into his pick up, trying to remember another time he had felt so full and failing. Something must be wrong with him.


	9. In Which Kurt Wears a Skirt

Sometimes doing what was best meant missing the fun stuff. Retaking tests in Pre-Calculus while missing Glee definitely fit into that category. He sighed as he glanced up at the clock. Four-thirty. There was really no point in going at all. He turned his attention to his teacher. "How'd I do?"

She held up the test, a big eighty nine scrawled across the top. "You're doing much better. May I ask what your secret is?"

He smiled to himself. "Kurt Hummel. He's tutoring me." In the months since Sam had moved to McKinley, Kurt had gotten him more than caught up in Pre Calculus.

"Ah. Kurt. He was a fantastic student. Really a sweet kid. I just wish the rest of the school could see that."

"What do you mean?" Kurt had always seemed so strong.

She sighed. "You can't tell me you haven't noticed the students whispering in the halls when he passes. There's probably more that we teachers don't see. He's a very brave kid, coming out in someplace as narrow minded as Lima. Just… don't hurt him, okay?"

"I would never do that." And it was true. He didn't know how anyone could even think of hurting Kurt.

"Good. So off you go. I'll see you tomorrow." Sam collected his things and bid her goodbye.

In walking to his car, Sam had to journey past the principal's office. Waiting outside was someone he never expected to see. "Kurt?"

The smaller boy turned in the direction of his voice. "Sam. How did your retest go?"

"Eighty nine."

A small grin escaped the stone façade that Kurt had built up. "That's fantastic. See? You can do this stuff if you put your mind to it."

"It's your doing."

"Not really. You were the one sitting in there taking the test. I'm proud of you."

"Yeah." He looked down bashfully. Sam didn't do bashful. What the hell? "Why are you outside Figgin's office?"

Kurt let out a long suffering sigh. "Schue sent me here."

"Schue? What? Why?"

"It could have had something to do with me justifiably yelling at him to stop being so uptight."

Sam's eyes bugged out. He had never seen Kurt less than perfectly controlled. Suddenly, he really hated his lack of math skills. If he had done better on the test the first time around, he would have been able to see Kurt's outburst. "What did he do?"

"We all really want to do Britney Spears, right? And Mr. Schue keeps ignoring us and going on about his Adult Contemporary artists. I kept telling him and he kept brushing me off, so I blew up at him. And then he sent me here."

Sam smiled. It was a very Kurt reason, whatever that meant.

They heard footsteps coming down the hallway and both glanced up. Schue. "You should probably go. I wouldn't want to get you into any trouble."

"Yeah." Sam started to leave, but not before glancing down and noticing something. "Kurt?"

"Yes Sam?"

"Are you wearing a skirt?"

"Yes Sam."

"Okay then." Sam then exited hallway left, not wanting to leave Kurt to the vultures (or Schue, as it would have it), but not really having much of a choice in the matter.


	10. In Which Sam is Jealous of a Hat

Sam sat in the bleachers for the Homecoming pep rally feeling strangely anxious. He chalked the nerves up to the big game. He was, after all, the quarterback and expected to lead them to victory. Yes. That's definitely what gnawed at his stomach. Not the surprise that Kurt had warned him about the day before. "Don't worry." He had said. "You'll love it."

Figgins took the microphone and introduced New Directions, making sure to announce their last place finish at Regionals last year. What? Could this be the surprise?

The first notes sounded as the club bounded out. Sam had to smirk. Somehow, Kurt had convinced Schue to do Britney Spears.

Ditzy Brittany leapt onto the stage and began singing. Sam was surprised. Why had they not realized what a great voice she had before now? He frowned slightly as Rachel started in with her. That was why. Schue was blind to anyone else's talent when Rachel was around. Sure, she was amazing, but the impact was lost slightly when she sang every song.

A slight movement caught his eye. The club had taken off their hats and dancing with them very suggestively in front of them. Damn. Schue approved this? He heard an unfamiliar voice join the rest of the club and strained to find the owner. When the man stepped forward, his eyebrows raised instantly. Schue? Not only did Kurt get Schue to allow them to do Britney Spears, he gotten him to join them? Kurt must be the second coming of Annie Sullivan.

His mind on Kurt, Sam tried to find the brunette boy amongst the club. Whoa. His eyes doubled in surprise. All of the boys wore a completely black outfit with white suspenders, but Kurt pulled it off like it was made for him and no one else. Damn did he look hot. There were no other words for it.

Sam vaguely heard a boy yell something about Britney Spears. Shut up, he wanted to scream back, you don't get to speak. Not now. Not when Kurt is concerned.

The club definitely seemed to be making the most out of their only prop and Sam had never been so jealous of a hat before. To be so close to Kurt was dizzying to think about. Then again, that could have had something to do with the definite flow of blood that was not reaching his brain. But Sam was so entranced he didn't care.

He watched as the younger boy danced with Mercedes, a look of devilish amusement gracing his face. Sam could only imagine other situations when Kurt would use that face. Damn.

Too soon, they finished the song, all of them striking their final pose. He zeroed in on Kurt, who was panting softly from the dancing. Too many scenarios in which Kurt was left panting for different reasons poured into his mind like a long overdue rain. Toenail clippings, Mom naked, Blaine. Nothing was working to control his obvious arousal. It was official: he was hot for Kurt Hummel. That explained all of his strange reactions lately. Go figure. The thought echoed like a bell in his head. Or like a fire alarm. Oh. Damn.


	11. In Which Sam's Crush is Explained

After exiting the school with the rest of the student body, Sam got into his truck. He needed out. He couldn't face the rest of the club, couldn't face Kurt. Not now. Thinking back to the performance, he shivered. Damn.

He drove around until three o'clock on the slight chance his parents would be home early. They weren't. After all, he didn't expect them to be with all of the important business meetings and benefit luncheons they could find in the area. He bounded up the stairs, nerves buzzing. There was only one person he could talk to about this.

**Na'viRocky: **Blaine!

**Dragon_Slayer: **What!

**Na'viRocky: **Do you have a minute to talk?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Well I am up to my ass in overdue history essays. So yeah. I have time to talk.

Sam breathed in deeply. This was it.

**Na'viRocky: **I like someone.

**Dragon_Slayer: **You? You like someone? Are you kidding?

**Na'viRocky: **No. I'm pretty sure.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Wow. Awesome, dude. What's she like?

**Na'viRocky: **That's the other thing.

**Dragon_Slayer: **"She" is an alien transvestite from the planet Transsexual?

**Na'viRocky: **What?

**Dragon_Slayer: **I'm watching Rocky Horror. Go on.

**Na'viRocky: **"She" is a guy.

He sat back from the keyboard, waiting for Blaine to respond. His reaction meant everything.

**Dragon_Slayer: **You bastard.

**Na'viRocky: **What?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Of course you would have to go gay after leaving Dalton.

**Na'viRocky: **I'm sorry for the ill timing?

**Dragon_Slayer: **No. I'm mad at you.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Tell me about him.

Sam let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Blaine was okay with this.

**Na'viRocky: **He's great. Smart, funny, insane, really really hot. Like really hot. And I haven't actually heard him sing, but I hear that he's great.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Damn. I might have to steal him. A talented hottie. Yeah, I think I might.

**Na'viRocky: **And I might have to kill you if you try.

**Dragon_Slayer: **So what are you going to do about it? Is he straight?

**Na'viRocky: **No, he's not. He's a good friend of mine, though. I don't want to lose that.

**Dragon_Slayer: **You'll think of something, dude. You always do. I have to go though. I wasn't kidding about those history essays. They're threatening to kick me out of the Warblers if I don't "straighten out" whatever that means.

It truly would be a cold day in hell the day that Blaine gave up on the Warblers. The singing group was basically his life.

Sam bid his best friend goodbye and lay back on his bed. What did this mean, this attraction to Kurt? The boy was hot, yes, but he was also smart and funny and talented and passionate and… Sam didn't have enough time to list all of the wonderful things he had learned about Kurt in the two and a half months since they had met. He was attracted to Kurt, but he definitely was not the reason behind Sam's sexuality. He was just his epiphany to realizing it.

If he was completely honest with himself, Sam had always paid more attention to guys than girls. He had chalked that up to going to an all boys boarding school for his formative years. It didn't mean anything that he checked out other guys when they play shirts and skins basketball, he had thought. There just wasn't another option available.

Now he knew that it was not a matter of convenience. He was gay. He liked other guys. Now the only thing left to do was to tell Kurt.


	12. In Which a Quest for Graph Paper is Bad

_A/N: All right guys. You get the first twelve at once because I have already published them on other sites. Now I will update every three days like I do there. The next update will be on Wednesday November 17._

Knowing that he had to tell Kurt about his crush and actually doing it were two completely different things, Sam learned. He had had it all planned out: telling Kurt straight out during tutoring and maybe asking him to a movie or something. Hey, no one ever said that his plan had to be elaborate.

He arrived at the Hummel residence the next Monday, palms sweating slightly. It was now or never, right? He could do this. Right?

Wrong. He realized that he could not do this. Nope. Not a chance. The door opened as he paced the porch outside. "Mr. Evans. Is there a reason why you are stalking my house on this lovely evening instead of knocking like a sane person?"

He looked up. Bad idea. Kurt was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed with an amused smirk on his face. His dark blue blazer and tight black pants really were more tempting than they had any right to be. "No. No reason."

"Do you want to come in then? Or are you finding the porch more to your liking?"

"Inside's fine." He crossed the threshold, thankful that Kurt was behind him. That way he could neither stare at the other boy's ass or sprint all the way back home, both of which he would not have been able to resist had their positions been switched.

"You ran out so fast on Friday I didn't get a chance to hear what you thought of our performance."

Right. Their performance. That was a touchy subject. "It was…um…it was really good, Kurt."

He beamed. "I should hope so. It took me long enough to convince Mr. Schue to let us do Britney in the first place. And after all of that, he only did it to impress Ms. Pillsbury."

"The guidance counselor?"

"Yes. He's been pining after her for a year now. Although, he's not married anymore, so he's free to go after her, I suppose."

"It sounds like there's a story behind that."

"Yes, but it's long and complicated and we are here for Pre-Calculus, not the woes of Mr. Schue's love life."

Kurt pushed him towards the stairs and down into the basement. "So. What are we working on today?"

"Graphing."

Kurt hissed slightly as he sat down on the couch. Sam looked up, alarmed. "I hated graphing."

"Me too. I just… there's a pattern to it and I can't remember it."

Kurt got up. "Let me get my graph paper."

Sam watched him. Not a good idea. Look somewhere else. The ceiling. The stairs. The bed. No, not the bed. That was a worse idea than watching Kurt. What the hell is the matter with you?

"Got it!" Sam glanced up to see the younger boy wave the graph paper around and then frown. "Are you okay?"

Me? Just fine. Just trying to tell you that I can't stop thinking about you. "I'm good."


	13. In Which Blaine Announces His Move

Sam fell face down on his bed, groaning. It was official. He sucked. He couldn't even look at Kurt without feeling the blood rush to his face. How was he supposed to tell him that he liked him?

He distantly heard the ping of the IM go off.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Dude, I have news.

**Na'viRocky: **I'm a failure. Leave me alone.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Sure you are, but I like you anyway. Why are you just realizing this now?

**Na'viRocky: **I can't tell the guy that I like that I like him.

**Dragon_Slayer: **That's harsh.

**Dragon_Slayer: **What's his name anyway?

He paused. For some reason, he didn't want Blaine to know. Kurt was his and he wasn't about to share.

**Na'viRocky: **Billy. Why?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Curiosity. Anyway, back to me.

**Na'viRocky: **We're forever talking about you.

**Dragon_Slayer: **I'm going to ignore that comment. I'm moving.

**Na'viRocky: **Moving? Where?

**Dragon_Slayer: **That's the beauty of it.

**Na'viRocky: **Blaine, you're not making any sense.

**Dragon_Slayer: **I'M MOVING TO LIMA, SAM! ISN'T IT WONDERFUL?

Sam stared at his laptop, stunned. What?

**Na'viRocky: **What?

**Dragon_Slayer: **It's been ever so lonesome here without you and my darling parents decided that you make me focus and so, we are moving to Ohio and I'm going to meet your hot not-really boyfriend!

**Na'viRocky: **Great!

Great. Blaine would meet Kurt. This could only end in disaster and hilarity. Minus the hilarity. Damn Blaine and his stupid Harry Potter musical. No sane person could sit through a two hour long musical about the assorted adventures of the Boy Who Lived, but then again, no one even claimed that Blaine was sane.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Really?

**Na'viRocky: **What?

**Dragon_Slayer: **You have nothing more to say. No enthusiasm. Nothing?

**Na'viRocky: **It's been a long day, Blaine. Just drop it.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Fine.

**Na'viRocky: **When are you going to be here?

**Dragon_Slayer: **I'd say another month or so. We have to get packed here and everything. I'll have to bid adieu to my beloved Warblers.

**Na'viRocky: **Cool. I have homework, so I'll talk to you later.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Sure.

Sam logged off. Blaine's parents were filthy rich and known for doing impulsive things. In fact, this was probably one of the most well thought out ideas they had had in a while. Nothing could really top the yacht they were convinced would fit in their in ground pool. He tried to reason with himself. It wouldn't be bad. Blaine, his best friend, at school with him. With Kurt. Damn.


	14. In Which Sam is an Avatar

_A/N: You guys are amazing. Seriously. This has been up for about a week and it probably already has more story alerts and favorites then the rest of my stories that have been up for much longer. So thanks for that!_

Sam waited outside the Hummel-Hudson residence, waiting for someone to answer the door. He had been spending a lot of time over there, what with the tutoring. Kurt was a really awesome tutor, patient and eager to help. He idly wondered if he was as eager in other areas. No Sam! Do not go there!

The door opened and he was greeted by a burly man wearing a baseball cap and plaid. This must be Kurt's dad. He surreptitiously moved the DVD case in front of his crotch just in case. Did not care to explain that.

"Who're you?"

"Sam Evans, sir."

"What are you-" He was interrupted as another person came to the door.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" Kurt looked suitably confused. "We're not studying today."

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. Watch a movie or something." After all, he couldn't possibly crush on someone who didn't like this movie. That he had figured out pretty quickly.

"Sure." He opened the door wider and pointed Sam to the basement as if he hadn't been there many times before. "I'll be down in a minute."

Sam journeyed down the hallway towards the basement, ears wide open.

"Kurt, who is that?"

"He's just a friend, dad. Sam? I've told you about him. I tutor him."

"Oh. I just thought…The way he…Never mind."

Sam flushed as he reached the door to Kurt's room. Apparently he wasn't as subtle as he thought. He took Kurt's absence as an opportunity to set up the DVD player. He then paused the movie at the beginning.

He heard footsteps on the stairs and glanced up to be greeted by Kurt carrying two cans of Diet Coke and a bag of lightly buttered popcorn. "Sorry about that. My dad's…protective."

"It's fine." He helped Kurt arrange the snacks on the table in front of them.

"So what are we watching?"

Sam smirked slightly. "You'll see."

After they had both gotten settled, he unpaused the movie.

Kurt tilted his head curiously as the native chants and the beautiful scenery of Pandora rushing past began. "Sam, what we watching?"

"Just watch the movie!"

"But there's no title!"

"You'll figure it out. You're pretty smart."

Kurt pouted slightly and leaned back in his seat, quietly munching on the popcorn.

They had reached the scene where Jake had met Norm and Max and seen his Avatar for the first time before Kurt turned back to him. "Really?"

"It's a good movie! I've seen it six times!" He chose wisely not to mention that all six of those times had been in the theater and since obtaining the DVD, he watched it at least once a week.

"Why am I not surprised?" But he kept silent.

During the scene where Jake first linked with his Avatar, Kurt began giggling. "What?"

"That's you!" Sam couldn't help but laugh too. The awkwardness of the ten foot Avatar, he supposed, could be related to his own.

The rest of the movie passed in relative silence. Sam couldn't help but watch Kurt as the hometree fell. He was crying. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine, Sam. Just watch the movie."

As the movie was drawing to a close and Neytiri was fighting the Colonel, Sam noticed Kurt tense up. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"Fine." Sam, however, could see the opposite on his face. He scooted closer and put his arm around the smaller boy. "Better now?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

The movie soon ended and Kurt slid back to his side of the couch embarrassed. "Thank you for that."

"No problem. How did you like the movie?"

"Well, it isn't my usual style," At that, Sam stomach lurched. Could it be that Kurt didn't like Avatar? "But I really enjoyed it."

He smiled widely. This was why Kurt was amazing.


	15. In Which the Evans Come to Lima

For the first time, Kurt had cancelled their afterschool tutoring session. "You don't need numbers clogging up you head when you go to make those goals." The correct term in Sam's case was touchdowns, but he was still touched by the gesture. It was, after all, the first year that Lima had qualified for the playoffs in a very long time and probably the first ever year they had ever made it to the championships.

He laced up his cleats in the locker room, waiting impatiently for the sign from Coach Bieste to take the field.

"Hey dude." He turned slightly to acknowledge Puck. "Don't screw this up. You make me look bad, I'll make you look bad."

"Duly noted."

Coach Bieste walked in grinning widely. It was a bit unsettling to be completely honest. "All right, ladies. I have no idea how your sorry behinds have managed to get this far, but you have. I want you to go out on that field and try not to embarrass yourselves. We clear?"

A muttered response was heard. Sam half heartedly grunted in agreement.

"I can't hear you!"

"Yes!"

"Good. Now go!"

Sam grabbed his helmet and ran out with his team for the last time. He was relieved to be done with the season. He had seen the way the other players bullied the rest of the students, bullied Kurt. He was nothing like them and when this game was over, they no longer had a connection to say that he was.

He stretched by the sidelines, eyes doing a cursory glance over the crowd. He stopped with a shock. Dressed in their country club best with their noses high in the air were his parents. What were they doing here? It was over two hours to Lima from their expensive apartment in Cincinnati.

He forced himself to look away. This was not the time to get distracted. Speaking of distractions…His gaze dropped from the crowd to the Cheerios. Damn. How come anyone be that tempting by just existing?

Sam peered over his shoulder to Coach Bieste. She was fully occupied with yelling at Finn. Deciding that she was sufficiently distracted, he snuck over to the cheerleaders who apparently had decided it was a good time to start stretching themselves for their routine. Damn. He awkwardly stood on the side and watched.

"Hello Sam." A pleasant voice greeted from near his feet. "Can I help you with something?" Kurt rose from touching his toes and looked at him expectantly

"No. Yes! I just-I wanted to wise you good luck."

Kurt tilted his head curiously. "I'm not the one that an entire town's hopes are riding on, but thank you anyway. Good luck to you."

"Thanks." He awkwardly glanced away as Kurt began stretching his arms over his head, shirt riding up as he reached higher.

"So are your parents here?"

"What?" His head jerked up. Did Kurt know about his relationship with his parents?

"Your parents. They must be so proud of you, star quarterback that you are."

"I'm actually surprised they showed."

"Why? The entire town is here. Probably the county."

"Yeah, but I didn't expect that to extend to Cincinnati."

"What?"

"My parents. They live in Cincinnati."

"Then who do you live with?"

"Me, myself and I."

"And no one cares?"

"No one else knows. I've gotten pretty good at forging their signatures."

"So they move you to Ohio and make you live over a hundred miles away from them?"

"A hundred miles is nowhere close to enough."

"I-" But Sam didn't find out what Kurt was about to say.

"Fishlips! Stop flirting. Your freakishly masculine coach has been glaring at you for the better part of a minute. And you're distracting my star Cheerio."

"Sorry Coach Sylvester." He had learned since transferring, she was a scary woman. It was best not to cross her. "See you later, Kurt."

"Bye Sam." He jogged back over to his team and fuming coach. It didn't matter. He was ready for this. Let the games begin.


	16. In Which Mercedes Goes to Nerdier Places

"First of all, let me congratulate the Ohio Division 3A Football Champions, the McKinley High School Titans, led by our very own Sam Evans!"

A thunderous applause sounded in the choir room. Sam ducked his head down embarrassed.

"And now down to business: duets. Who can tell me what a duet is?" Schue looked around expectantly.

"A blanket." They yet again ignored Brittany's suggestion.

"A duet is a musical composition for two performers." Rachel replied smugly.

"Exactly Rachel. This week you will choose a partner and a song and perform it for us on Friday. We will have a guest judge to decide on the best number and the winners will win a free dinner for two at Breadsticks and they may get to perform their song at Regionals!"

The class erupted into loud and excited chatter. Sam was left confused. Breadsticks?

Kurt caught his bewilderment. "Breadsticks is basically the only fancy restaurant in Lima. It's like Olive Garden without the unlimited soup."

"That's fancy for you guys?"

"It's Lima. If you're expected to sit at a table and use cutlery, it's practically considered fine dining."

Made sense. "So who are you doing your duet with?"

Kurt huffed. It was adorable. "I was planning on doing a fabulous number with Mercedes, but it seems that she has left me for…nerdier pastures." He followed Kurt's disapproving gaze to where Mercedes was chatting animatedly with Artie.

"You could sing with me."

Kurt appeared unsure. "You want to sing with me? Are you sure you wouldn't rather sing with someone like Quinn?" He nodded at the blonde cheerleader speaking in low tones with Puck at the top of the riser.

"Positive. I've heard your voice is insane." The crush I have on you might also be a part of it.

"This is true." He smirked. "Okay, Sam, I'll sing with you."

His heart soared. "But I have a condition for you."

"What?" His mind raced with all of the possibilities, some good and some bad, that Kurt might have as a proviso before he sang with him.

"If you make me look bad, I'll kill you and hide your body somewhere so random they will never find it." Kurt smiled adorably as he said it, making him look as threatening as a newborn kitten. The cute was going to kill Sam. Or cause him to pinch Kurt's cheeks. Which set, he had not decided yet. Neither option seemed like a good choice at the moment.

"Noted." Like anything could make Kurt look bad anyway.

He smiled. God, the world stopped when he smiled. "Then I look forward to collaborating with you, Mr. Evans."


	17. In Which Quinn Has a Favor to Ask

After practice let out, Sam traveled back to his locker to grab his books for homework.

"Hey Sam! You have a minute?" Sam slowed his walk, confused, allowing the girl to catch up to him.

"Quinn, right?"

"Yeah. We really haven't had the chance to talk. I wanted to ask you something."

"I can't sing a duet with you. I've already asked Kurt."

"No, I'm singing with Puck. I just wanted to ask if you could help me with something."

Now he was confused. "What?"

She sighed. "Puck. You seem like a nice guy and as you've probably seen, Puck can be, but he thinks that if he shows too much emotion, he'll look like less of a badass."

"So what do you want me to do about it?" They stopped as Sam had reached his locker.

"Could you maybe help show him that isn't true?"

"What?" He twisted the dial on his locker and opened it, grabbing his history and math book.

"He thinks you're a cool guy, Sam. He'll listen to you more than he will listen to me. Believe me, I've tried. He's scared of me. But you. He thinks you're a stud or something."

"I can remember him saying that, yes."

"Good. Show him that he can still be cool without throwing kids in the dumpster."

"Throwing kids in the dumpster?"

"Yeah. Kurt used to go through that at least twice a week."

That bastard. Forget helping him. Sam was going to kill him. Quinn, as if she sensed his anger, hastily added. "Of course he doesn't do that to him anymore. He's moved on to the nerds outside of Glee club."

"That's supposed to be an improvement?"

"He thinks it is. Please Sam? I would owe you big time."

He slumped beside his locker, conflicted. "Why not?"

Quinn squealed and hugged him tightly. "Thank you Sam!"

"Yeah, yeah." He shut his locker and she accompanied him to the parking lot.

"I could have asked Finn, but after last year, I didn't think that would be such a good idea."

"Why?"

"It's a long story. Basically, I cheated on Finn with Puck and they really haven't been the same since."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. Quinn, the stereotypical good girl, cheated on her boyfriend?

She caught his expression. "Don't start. I messed up. I know that."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were going to."

"No wonder he's afraid of you." Sam teased.

She gently slapped his arm, grin on her face. He stopped in front of his truck. "This is me."

Quinn touched his arm tentatively. "Thank you so much, Sam. He's a good guy. He just needs to grow up."

"No problem." They turned as they heard tires squealing as someone peeled out of the parking lot in a black SUV. Kurt? Sam wondered what was wrong with him.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

Sam smiled at her. "Yeah."


	18. In Which Kurt's Jazz is Hot

Sam parked in front of the Hummel residence, excited. Today was the day he would finally hear Kurt sing. He shivered with anticipation at the thought.

He knocked on the door and waiting. Inside he could hear a thud. What the hell? The door flew open, revealing a disheveled Kurt, his usually immaculate hair askew.

"I'm going to kill Finn Hudson." He muttered, eyes darting wildly.

"What did he do?" After all, Sam couldn't let Kurt go to prison for murder. He would have to help him.

"He destroyed my carefully arranged CD collection to find a soundtrack for his duet, only to find out that Rachel already has it." He sighed. "He's almost my brother and I love him as such, but sometimes it seems that I am dealing with a four year old."

"That sounds about right. Are you ready to practice our duet?"

"I suppose. It would keep me from pulling my hair out reorganizing everything."

"I don't know if you could rock the bald look." This was a lie. Kurt could rock anything.

"I know!" They traipsed down the stairs to Kurt's basement room. "Now, what were you thinking for our duet, Sam?"

"I dunno. I'm at a disadvantage because I've never heard you sing, Kurt."

Kurt nodded eyes thoughtful. "We'll need to remedy that, won't we?"

He turned to the stereo next to his TV and started an instrumental track. Sam settled back in the couch, eagerly waiting for him to begin singing.

The jazzy intro played as Kurt began to sing.

"_About twenty years ago way down in New Orleans…"_

Sam had heard that Kurt was a good singer. That was a lie. He was amazing, so much better than Rachel.

"_And they decided to call it…Jazz…"_

Damn. And his range was ridiculous. He watched as the younger boy sauntered around the room interacting with imaginary dancers. Sam was entranced, caught in the beauty of Kurt's voice.

As he reached the end of his song, Kurt started on a low note, allowing it to rise in pitch until he had reached a note in the highest part of his register that even Rachel Berry would envy. Damn.

He briskly walked back to the stereo and turned it off. "So any ideas?"

Sam opened his mouth, but realized he could not voice any of the thoughts he was currently having. He had always thought that it was such a dumb expression, but he realized that it could happen at that moment: Kurt had literally rendered him speechless. "Kurt…that was…amazing. Just…wow."

"Thank you Sam. Do you have any ideas for our duet?" Kurt brushed off the compliment as if he received them continuously, but Sam could see the subtle blush on his cheeks.

"I think I've got one."

"Good to know that the peroxide hasn't completely destroyed your brain."

"I don't dye my hair!"

"Uh huh."


	19. In Which Sam Doesn't Give Up on Kurt

Sam adjusted the water tap, finding the perfect temperature. Football season might be over, but damn it, he was going to take advantage of the locker room, especially after the tough choreography that Mr. Schue had made them suffer through. There were only so many times he could kick ball change before wanting to kick Schue's face. He stepped under the spray and sighed softly. Nothing soothed him as much as the feel of warm water pounding against his back.

Before they had left, Schue had reminded them of their Duet performances on Friday. Sam smirked. He and Kurt were going to blow all of them out of the water. Although he had had to convince Kurt of his song choice, he was convinced that it was perfect for them. He was surprised when they first ran through the song how well they sounded together. No one could stop them if they were together.

"Ahem."

Sam turned, confused. "Kurt?"

"Don't worry. I'm not going to go all Shawshank on you."

"What are you doing here?" Not that he minded too terribly much. Kurt looked adorable in his black outfit and his neck looked especially long and beautiful. Okay, now he was minding a little bit more. Thank God for the dividers between the showers.

"We need to talk about our duet."

"Now?"

"It can't wait."

Sam's stomach dropped. "What about?"

"I think that you should sing your duet with someone else."

"Why?"

Kurt sighed. "Sam, I get harassed everyday for being myself. The Neanderthals will start after you if you sing with me. I don't want that to happen to you."

"What if I don't care?"

"What?" Kurt appeared stunned by the thought. Sam didn't know why. Kurt was amazing and Sam would willingly give up the reputation he had obtained to sing with him.

"I want to sing with you because you're a good singer and because we get along. If they have a problem with it, then screw them."

"Sam…"

"And besides, everyone else is paired up already. You wouldn't make me do my first official Glee club assignment on my own, would you?" Sam hoped the answer was no.

"No…"

"Do you want to sing with me?"

"Yes."

"Then we're going to sing together, Kurt." He tried to appear authoritative in his response, but his nudity really didn't help.

"And I don't get a say in this?"

"Not at all."

"All right then." Kurt smiled crookedly. "I see you bought the shampoo I recommended."

"Yeah, well."

"It's okay. You don't have to admit that I was right."

"I'm not admitting anything."

Kurt turned to leave. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for not giving up on me. Most people would have run at the first sign of trouble."

"I wouldn't do that to you."

Kurt smiled cryptically over his shoulder and left. Sam picked up his shampoo and began washing his hair. He would never give up on Kurt.


	20. In Which Puck Plays with a Toddler

Thinking back to Quinn's request, Sam had no idea how this would help. She had mentioned that he had a soft spot for kids and maybe he could have a conversation about them. He didn't know. She really had a tendency to confuse his head.

"Hey Evans. What the hell am I doing here?" And there was Puck, as charming as ever.

"I told you Puck. My neighbors asked me to babysit and I really am not good around kids and Quinn said you were…"

"You wanted me to come over to help you deal with an anklebiter?"

"His name's Micah. He's three."

Puck pushed past Sam in the doorway to where Micah played with his toys in the den. "Dude, it's not rocket science." Puck plopped down next to Micah on the floor. "Can I play?"

Micah looked up to Sam, questioning. They had formed a pretty good relationship so far, if Sam did say so himself, but he wasn't going to tell Puck that. Sam nodded slightly.

"Suwe. I'm Micah."

"Puck." He shook the boy's hand. "So what are we doing?"

"We're pwaying dinoswars. You can have this one." Micah handed him a velociraptor.

"Oh man. This is my favorite dinosaur." He and Micah began to play, the younger boy giggling at Puck's ridiculous dinosaur voice. Sam was amazed. This was the same kid that threw other people into dumpsters?

Sam joined in, accepting the T-Rex Micah handed him.

Puck snorted. "My dinosaur is so much more badass than yours."

"Don't say badass."

"Why not?"

"Micah's three, Puck. If he starts to repeat you, his parents are going to kill me."

"He's not going to repeat me."

"Mwister Puck? What does badass mean?"

Sam sighed. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Luckily, by the time that Micah's parents picked him up, Puck had convinced Micah that it was a secret word that couldn't be used except in Sam's house.

"You are such a liar, Evans. You didn't need help with the kid."

Sam shifted on the floor uncomfortably. "Yeah I did."

"No you didn't. You want to tell me why I'm really here?"

He sighed. He really couldn't keep lying. "Quinn wants me to talk to you about straightening up."

Puck snorted. "You? Talking to me about straightening up? That's laughable."

"Excuse you?"

"Sam, we've all seen the lovesick stares you throw toward Hummel every day."

"I do not stare at Kurt!"

"If you say so."

"Shut up. This is about you. Why are you such a bastard?"

Puck was silent. "You know I have a daughter?"

"You? Someone reproduced with you?"

"I'm a stud, dude." He pulled out a well worn picture out of his wallet. "There's my baby."

Sam took the picture. She was adorable, bright brown eyes and blond hair. "She looks like…" She couldn't be, could she?

"She looks like her mother."

"You had a baby with Quinn?" This explained a lot.

"Yeah. Long story there. She gave her up for adoption, so Beth's with Rachel's mom now. She sends me pictures of her every once and a while."

"I like that name."

"Beth's a good name."

"Why do you act this then? You have a baby out there. You need to grow up."

"I did grow up. A lot. Quinn didn't see it. She just ignored everything I did. So, I went back to how I used to be. Gets her attention."

"You know what would really get her attention? If you showed her that you're not an immature bastard and you're worthy of her. Make her see that you're different."

Puck smiled at him. "You know what, Evans? For such a closeted freak, you're all right sometimes."

"I'm not in the closet."

"You're in Narnia then."

Sam sighed. There was really no winning with Puck.


	21. In Which Finn is No Jonathan Groff

"_And now our bodies are the guilty ones…"_

Sam grinned as Rachel and Finn finished their duet. If he didn't think that he and Kurt were going to win this duet competition before, he did now. Artie and Mercedes had done a passionate rendition of Love the Way You Lie, but Ms. Pillsbury, their guest judge, didn't seem to be a fan of the lyrics. Mike and Tina's song, while cute, really didn't showcase either of their voices. Sam did have to admit that Mike's dancing was pretty cool though. He had been surprised at Puck and Quinn singing a love song from a musical that he had vaguely heard of ("Rent," Kurt had whispered reverently), talking about how they should tell each other something. Santana seemed reluctant in her otherwise fine duet with Brittany of an old rock song Sam distantly remembered was called Come to My Window.

And then there was Finn and Rachel. Rachel sounded beautiful, perfect to sing this song but Finn… It didn't seem like the type of song that Finn could really sing usually. Some of the notes were not in his range and Rachel seemed annoyed as he tried to hit them. He glanced over at Kurt and they exchanged a smirk. Clapping for their competition, Sam grabbed his guitar and readied himself to stand.

"Nice song, Rachel. But you know who would have sung it better?" Kurt asked, devious expression on his otherwise angelic face.

"Shut up." She muttered. Sam had never heard her say that before. What did Kurt know?

"Jesse St. James." He remembered the legend of Jesse St. James, kid from Vocal Adrenaline who had transferred to McKinley for Rachel and then egged her in the parking lot.

"We don't mention that name in this choir room, Kurt." She replied, eyes burning.

"You know it's true."

She growled, fists flexing. As much as Sam was enjoying this, he really needed Kurt for their duet. "Kurt, let's go."

He pulled the smaller boy up the front. "What was that for?"

Kurt shrugged. "It was a statement of fact. Finn doesn't have the vocals of Jonathan Groff. Jesse was pretty close as it was. He would have done it better. And also, I'm psyching out the competition."

"Kurt!"

"What? All's fair in love and war, and this, Sam, is the battlefield."

"Boys, when you're ready!" Schue called from across the room.

Sam took a deep breath and positioned his guitar. They were going to kill this. He made sure that Kurt was pressing the right strings and began strumming and singing.

"_Do you hear me? I'm talking to you  
Across the water across the deep blue ocean  
Under the open sky, oh my, baby I'm trying_

He kept strumming, impressed by how well Kurt was remembering the positions. Kurt started his own verse, soft and sensual.

"_Boy I hear you in my dreams  
I feel your whisper across the sea  
I keep you with me in my heart  
You make it easier when life gets hard_

Kurt let go of the neck of the guitar and moved around him like they had rehearsed to begin the chorus with Sam. Sam hoped he didn't notice that he was watching him rather intently. He looked up and locked eyes with Quinn. She grinned at him knowingly. Oh no.

"_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend  
Lucky to have been where I have been  
Lucky to be coming home again  
Ooh ooh ooh  
They don't know how long it takes  
Waiting for a love like this  
Every time we say goodbye  
I wish we had one more kiss  
I'll wait for you I promise, I will_

Sam put down his guitar and turned back to Kurt, smile wide. They had won this, he knew, but better than that, he and Kurt sounded so good together. It was almost like they were meant to sing together.

"_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend  
Lucky to have been where I have been  
Lucky to be coming home someday  
Ooh ooh ooh  
Ooh ooh ooh ooh"_

They ended standing next to each other, basking in the applause from the rest of the club. Sam smiled hugely. This is how it was meant to be.

"All of you did wonderfully. Ms. Pillsbury is going to have to think long and hard to determine our winner." Looking at the guidance counselor, Sam knew it wasn't true. "And she will tell us on Monday. Have a great weekend, guys!"

Sam grabbed his guitar and began packing up when he felt a soft touch on his back. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to come over next week or something?" It was Quinn. "I want to thank you about the Puck thing and we could hang out some." Her eyes told him that they would also be discussing something else, something that Sam wasn't sure he could trust anyone in the Glee with yet.

"That sounds cool." He snapped his case shut and turned, hoping to find Kurt and failing. "Where did Kurt go?"

Quinn tilted her head to the side as if she was studying him. "He left right after Schue dismissed us. Guess he has something to do at home."

"Yeah. Guess so." He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.


	22. In Which Sam Tells Quinn a Half Truth

"I never congratulated you on winning the contest, Sam." Quinn mentioned lightly, setting down his requested iced tea beside him. "The two of you sounded really good together."

"Thanks." He picked up the tea, taking care not to spill any on the white couch. The Fabray living room was intimidating, to say the least. Immaculate white everywhere. Sam wondered how they were able to keep it clean.

"So when were you and Kurt planning on using your gift certificate to Breadsticks?"

"I don't know, Quinn."He tried to close the subject. He was not discussing this with Quinn. He had asked Kurt about it, but the other boy had brushed it off.

"Fine then." She settled beside him on the couch. "Thank you for Puck. He's…you did something to him."

Sam laughed. "I just gave him the push in the right direction."

"Whatever you did, it worked. He offered to carry my books to class and I haven't noticed him checking out any other girl since you talked to him."

"Maybe he's a changed man."

"Maybe." She agreed softly. "You didn't beat him, did you?"

He chuckled. "Not where it's visible."

"That's always good. They'll be saying that I'm beating him next."

"You are sort of violent, Quinn."

"Shut up, Sam."

He stared at her unimpressed until she burst into giggles. They were apparently infectious as Sam started laughing next.

"You are so ridiculous, Sam!"

"Pot, meet kettle!"

It had been a while since Sam had laughed like this and it felt good. Really good. Quinn was a lot of fun to be around. Eventually, they stopped laughing and Sam had a random thought.

"Why didn't I know you had a baby?"

Quinn looked like a blond deer in the headlights. "Who told you that?"

"Puck. He has a picture of Beth in his wallet."

She smiled softly, eyes distant. "Of course he would." She refocused on Sam. "It doesn't really get brought up in normal conversation."

"Do you miss her?"

"She's my daughter, Sam. Of course I miss her. But Shelby is better for her. More stable. I can't raise a baby."

"You would have been great."

"Maybe later, but not now. Not while I'm still in high school." Sam could see her getting more distressed. "I wouldn't have given up my baby if I could have taken care of her. But my parents kicked me out and I was pinballed to different houses after that. Finn's, Puck's, Mercedes'. And they were all great, but I can't raise a kid like that." She started to cry softly.

"Quinn. I'm sorry. I didn't know." Damn, what could he do?

"I know you didn't." He sat in silence while she collected herself.

"Sam, why won't you talk to me?" She asked, wiping her eyes.

"I am talking to you. I mean, not right then, but I thought that-"

"No, I mean about Kurt. I'm telling you stuff that I wouldn't tell anyone else I just met because I can trust you. I know that I can. You can trust me, Sam, about Kurt."

Damn. He knew that she knew, but they were not talking about this now. "There's nothing to tell."

She snorted. "Really? Because Brittany asked me whether the two of you were hooking up and if so, could she watch."

"There's nothing to tell," He repeated.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing at all."

He could tell that she didn't believe him. That was fine as long as she let the subject drop. "So what's new with you?"

He sighed. "My best friend's moving to Lima."

"Really? When?"

"He'll be here in another two weeks or so."

"He anything like you?"

"He's…" Sam struggled to find the right word to describe Blaine. "Unique."

"Unique? He sounds interesting."

"He certainly thinks so."

Quinn cocked her head to the side. "You don't sound overly excited that he's moving here, Sam. I mean, this is supposed to be your best friend."

"He is, but he has this tendency to get whatever he wants and I just don't want-" He stopped himself. Not going there.

"You don't want what, Sam?"

"Nothing, Quinn. Nothing. I'm excited that Blaine's coming here. He's a great guy and a fantastic singer. I'm sure he'll fit right in with the rest of the Glee club." How well was the cause of Sam's worry.

She examined him carefully. "You can trust me, Sam. I won't tell anyone else."

"Like I said, nothing to tell." At least, not yet.


	23. In Which Sam is Again Rocky Horror

"This week, instead of choosing a musical theme, we are going to do a musical to pump ourselves up for Sectionals." Schue announced as he entered the choir room. Sam, from his seat beside Puck, looked up half interested.

"Please be Evita. Please be Evita." Rachel chanted to herself.

"Rocky Horror!"

The club stared at each other in confusion. Sam groaned quietly. Blaine would be pissed that he missed this and take it out on him. Like Sam had any control over Schue's actions.

"Finn and I will play Brad and Janet, of course." Rachel mentioned matter-of-factly.

"Great! And Artie-"

"I guess I'm the guy in the wheelchair."

"That's what I was thinking. Sam-"

"I'm Rocky right?" He was the only blond guy in the club. It was a logical assumption.

"That is, if you're comfortable with-"

"Mr. Schue, my best friend is obsessed with Rocky Horror and had made me dress up as Rocky for the past three Halloweens."

"Who did he dress up as?" Tina asked.

"Frank-N-Furter." Sam shuddered. That was an image that he never wanted to see again.

"As long as you're sure. Speaking of Frank-N-Furters, I was thinking that ours could be played by Kurt."

Sam straightened up and turned to watch Kurt at his spot beside Mercedes. This would be a world away from Blaine and his hairy legs in the corset and heels. Sam immediately worried about the tightness of his Rocky shorts and how much the shorts actually hid. That might be an issue.

"No."

Schue seemed surprised. "No? It's the male lead, Kurt. Why don't you want it?"

"You're assuming that I'll play Frank-N-Furter solely because I am the only gay boy in the club. You're assuming that I want to dress up as a woman. Yes, some guys are into that sort of thing, but I'm not and I would rather not play Frank-N-Furter. I hope that you can respect that."

Will seemed taken aback by Kurt's speech. "Okay. Mike-"

Sam tuned out, slightly deflated. From his many viewings (Rocky Horror was the only movie that he had come close to seeing as much as Avatar) of the musical, he knew that Frank-N-Furter created Rocky for his pleasure and they later got married. Sure it wasn't real life, but Sam would still get to rehearse with Kurt and be around him. Damn.

Puck thumped him in the arm. "You good, bro?"

"Fine. Absolutely fine."


	24. In Which Skinny Jeans are Evil

_A/N: This is for all of y'all who kept telling me the last one was too short. This one is slightly longer. Also, I will be out of town from Wednesday to Sunday. You'll get another chapter on Wednesday and then one on Sunday and then maybe we can get back on normal posting schedule. Sorry. _

Sam arrived at the door of the auditorium, feeling slightly ridiculous. He was wearing a furry pink bathrobe after all. But it was their dress rehearsal. Sacrifices must be made.

He pushed open the door to the auditorium and was greeted by the sight of his fellow Gleeks in costume. Wow. They really had gone all out for this show. He could make out the forms of Santana and Quinn's Magentas and Finn's Brad on the stage. But where was Kurt?

He sighed and made his way to the stage, nodding to Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury at their desk in the center of the auditorium.

Shedding the furry pink bathrobe, he joined the rest of his classmates. Quinn noticed him first and whistled. "Looking good, Sam."

He flexed jokingly. "I'm abulous."

"Of course you are." An amused voice chuckled from behind them. Kurt. Sam turned around so fast he almost fell.

"You okay, Sam?"

Not at all. Damn. Was it legal for pants to be that tight? "I'm great. Nice costume, Kurt."

"Thank you. You look…" Kurt surveyed the outfit critically. "You look like Rocky."

"Which is the entire point, right?"

Kurt smirked. "It was just an observation."

"Okay guys! Let's set up for the Time Warp!"

With their limited number of members, they all were included in the number, no matter what their character was supposed to be doing. Sam took his place on the stage beside Santana. The familiar music began and Kurt started singing.

"_It's astounding. Time is fleeting."_

Sam had to smile. Even as Riff Raff, Kurt was perfect. The voice, the wig, the skinny jeans…No! That was not where his mind needed to go. Especially when Kurt was slinking towards him like he was now.

"_Madness takes its toll. But listen closely."_

"_Not for very much longer," _Quinn grinned sinisterly as she joined.

"_I've got to keep control."_

They lined up for the Time Warp, Kurt beside Sam as Finn took on the vocal lead. Sam thanked Blaine and his obsession for making him learn the dance years ago. Otherwise, with his concentration almost completely focused on not pointedly staring at Kurt, he would have tripped up.

As Finn finished the chorus, they scattered. Sam followed the Magentas and Columbias to the elevator shaft. Schue had instructed him to act like Frankenstein's monster with his arms outstretched and eyes unfocused. Quinn began the Magenta part and Sam let his mind wander. After all, it didn't require too much effort to move jerkily in the background. His attention was immediately captured when an ass appeared in front of him. Someone's skinny jean clad ass. It required a whole lot more attention to keep his hands away from it.

Thankfully, Kurt and Quinn both moved away as they entered the second chorus. This time, Sam was nowhere near Kurt, which was probably for the best. He didn't want to think about how much his shorts really showed off. They finished the dance and all fell down carelessly on the stage floor. Sam raised his hand once on the ground.

"Yes, Sam?"

"Could I maybe get some gold board shorts or something? These are really short and I'm afraid that I might be showing off some nuttage." And some other parts of his anatomy that he didn't want to share with the class.

"We'll think about it. From the top!"

He sighed and banged his head against the stage. Glee Club was going to be the death of him.


	25. In Which Sam Continues to Chicken Out

Sam collapsed on his bed, dragging out his World History textbook and starting on his essay. It had been a weird day for him.

Their production of Rocky Horror had ended as suddenly as it had begun. Schue had apologized to them all and spouted off about how he was choosing to do the musical for the wrong reasons and blah blah blah. Sam had tuned him out. At least Blaine would be happy that he hadn't missed the show since there was no show to actually miss.

Speaking of Blaine… His laptop pinged, announcing that his best friend was on IM.

Sam looked up from his Russian history essay.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Sammy!

**Na'viRocky: **Blaine!

**Dragon_Slayer: **It seems like forever since I've talked to you.

For once this wasn't an exaggeration. It had been a few weeks.

**Na'viRocky: **I've been busy.

**Dragon_Slayer: **With your gorgeous new boyfriend, I bet.

**Na'viRocky: **I don't have a boyfriend, Blaine.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Why the hell not? What about that Billy kid?

**Na'viRocky: **It's complicated.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Doesn't sound that complicated to me. You like him, you ask him out. Didn't you say something about that duet competition last time we talked?

He had actually. They had argued about Sam being a little bitch and not attempting to molest "Billy" already. Hence the not talking for a few weeks.

**Na'viRocky: **Yeah.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Well, how did it go?

**Na'viRocky: **We won.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Congrats! Didn't you also say something about the prize?

Sam sensed where Blaine was going with this and wisely decided that a subject change was in order.

**Na'viRocky: **We just did Rocky Horror in Glee club.

**Dragon_Slayer: **You bastard! You know that Tim Curry is the love of my life!

**Na'viRocky: **I thought that was Katy Perry.

**Dragon_Slayer: **No, Samuel. She is my beautiful heterosexual life partner. There's a difference.

**Na'viRocky: **Right.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Why didn't you stop them until I could get there?

Sam was right. Blaine was not happy.

**Na'viRocky: **You do know that I don't control our Glee coach, right?

**Dragon_Slayer: **You could if you loved me more.

**Na'viRocky: **That doesn't even make sense.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Your face doesn't even make sense.

**Dragon_Slayer: **So what did you do? Better yet, what did your boy do?

**Na'viRocky: **I was Rocky.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Naturally.

**Na'viRocky: **And he was Riff Raff.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Ew.

**Na'viRocky: **Trust me. If anyone could make Riff Raff sexy, it's him.

**Dragon_Slayer: **He made Riff Raff sexy? He must be a miracle worker. Damn, I can't wait to see him in his normal clothes.

Sam could. Sam could most certainly wait forever. Blaine had a way of chasing whatever he wanted and a majority of the time he got it. The lead of the Dalton Academy Warblers, the best chair in the senior commons, the cute new transfer student that everyone thought was straight. Blaine was unstoppable. He couldn't let Blaine get this. Not Kurt.

**Na'viRocky: **Me either.

**Dragon_Slayer: **I'm saying goodbye to my Warblers tomorrow. Isn't it tragic?

**Na'viRocky: **So tragic, Blaine. I'm tearing up at the thought.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Me too. Do you think that David will cry?

Sam smiled at the reference of one of their Warbler friends. Wes and David were the deadly duo at Dalton Academy, a real life Fred and George Weasley. He was positive that the boys would make sure Blaine went out in style.

**Dragon_Slayer: **I think David will cry.

**Na'viRocky: **He'll cry by the bucket load.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Poor David. I'll miss him. But he has Wes. He must soldier on.

**Na'viRocky: **You're ridiculous.

**Dragon_Slayer: **I am fabulous and you know it.

**Na'viRocky: **Right. Well, some of us actually are planning to go to their first period class tomorrow and I have an essay to write, so I will talk to you later.

**Dragon_Slayer: **It's my last English class. Of course I'm going.

**Dragon_Slayer: **And you'll see me later, loser! I'm coming to Lima, remember?

**Na'viRocky: **Couldn't forget it. Goodnight, Blaine.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Night, Sammybean.

Sam logged off of his instant messenger and returned to his history essay. McKinley was about to get a whole lot more interesting.


	26. In Which Sam Becomes a Torso to Cry On

Sam opened the door to the choir room, relishing in the quiet. It was the last Blaine-less day he had at McKinley and he was enjoying every second of it.

It was strange, though. Typically, at least one person was always in the choir room, harassing their pianist Brad to practice with them. Now, the choir room was empty.

Or was it? Sam heard sniffling from the other side of the room near Mr. Schue's office and went to investigate. As he approached, he recognized the boots sticking out from behind a filing cabinet. "Kurt?"

The other boy slipped out from his hiding place, eyes red. "Sam, what are you doing here?"

"I needed some quiet. What's wrong?"

Kurt sniffled once more. Something wasn't right here. "I'm fine."

"You typically hide out in the choir room crying when you're fine?"

"It's nothing, Sam."

"No. It's something. What's bothering you?" He led the smaller boy over the risers and sat him down in a chair, taking the seat beside him. "What's wrong, Kurt?"

He sighed deeply. "It's Karofsky."

Sam knew Karofsky. He was the right guard on the football team. A burly boy, he had a mean streak a mile wide. Sam avoided him at all costs. "What did Karofsky do?"

"He-" Kurt stopped and shook his head. "He won't stop."

"Stop what?" Sam leaned in closer, anxious. "What won't he stop?"

"He's an ass, Sam. That's all. I'm probably overacting."

"No. I've never seen you this upset. If it's bothering you, then it has to be pretty bad. You don't let anything bother you." Sam knew that as soon as he left the choir room, his fist and Karofsky's face were going to have a nice conversation. A nice long conversation.

Kurt smiled wanly. "You notice that, huh?"

"Yeah."

He let out another shuddering sigh. "I can't stand it here, Sam."

Sam waited patiently for Kurt to finish, even though every fiber of his being screamed out to grab the smaller boy and take him somewhere safe.

"I tell myself that I'll get out of this and everything will be okay, but it won't be, Sam. The world still looks down on me for nothing more than loving someone. How is that right?" His eyes, ever changing as the sea, began to fill with tears. Sam reached out to him, pulling him into his chest and rubbing soothing circles into his back.

"And they're wrong, Kurt. They're all wrong. There's nothing wrong with you. You're amazing."

"But why is it so damn hard then, Sam?"

"It's something they can't control, Kurt. They don't understand it. People always fear what they don't understand."

Kurt laughed shakily. "I didn't know you were a philosopher."

"I totally am. But I want you to remember something for me, okay?" He waited for Kurt's agreement.

"What?"

"You don't need them, Kurt. You're so much better than them. If someone put me in your position for a day, I would crack. You deal with so much and you don't tell anyone." After his talk with his Pre-Calculus teacher, he had been on the lookout what she had told him. It was true. Whispers followed Kurt down the halls, not so subtle feet stuck out for Kurt to trip on. The countertenor took it in stride.

Kurt peered up at him. "Why are you so great, Sam?"

"It's part of my charm, I suppose." Sam squeezed him gently. "It'll be okay, dude. Don't worry."

"I hope you're right." Kurt snuggled further into his chest, tentatively placing his own arm around Sam.

"I'm always right."

Kurt laughed again. "I'm your Pre-Calculus tutor. Don't try that with me."

"Damn, you've found me out." He chuckled.

"You have to promise me that you won't go after him, Sam."

"Why not?"

"It's not your battle. I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

Sam inwardly struggled. How could he allow this to continue when he could stop it? He looked down at Kurt and saw that the brunette was watching him intently. He sighed. "I promise."

They sat there entwined in each other for a long time, neither saying anything. Sam was perfectly content to spend the rest of his life like this, with Kurt holding on to him like he was a life raft. They both started as they heard the choir room door open. Kurt slid over away from the other boy. "Thank you, Sam."

"It's nothing."

The rest of the club filed in and took their seats. If they noticed the tear tracks on Kurt's pale cheeks and the wet spots on Sam's t-shirt, none of them said anything. For that, Sam was grateful.


	27. In Which Blaine Apologizes in Advance

Blaine started his first day at William McKinley High School in typical Blaine fashion: late. He waltzed in to Mr. Schue's Spanish III class almost half an hour late, citing that a rogue dog ate his car tires. Schue did the clichéd new student introduction in which Blaine bowed so low, Sam was surprised that he hadn't heard his spine crack in two. He shook his head and cleared off the desk beside him. Blaine turned to him and smiled widely.

"Sammybean! How I have missed you!"

"Sit down, Blaine." The dark haired boy pouted, but acquiesced, taking the seat next to him.

"McKinley has sucked the fun from you, Sammybean."

"And Dalton has obviously warped your fashion sense." He stared pointedly at Blaine's outfit, once again his uniform.

"No, it improved it. Check out the blazer." Sam checked out the blazer. It looked like a Dalton blazer. He had one identical to it.

Sam shook his head and turned back to the front of the room, taking careful notes on proper nouns from Schue's lecture.

"Pssstt… Sammy! Where's Billy?" Blaine asked in a stage whisper.

"Not here, Blaine."

"Who's Billy, Sam?"

"No one, Finn."

"Who's that, Sammybean?"

"I'm Finn Hudson."

"Blaine Phillips." They shook hands over Sam's notebook.

"Great. Now we all know each other. Can I please take my notes?"

Blaine of course ignored him. "Do you know this Billy person?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, Sammybean has-"

Thankfully, Mr. Schue had realized that they weren't paying attention. "Gentlemen, I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, but we do need to get some work done today. Please stop talking."

Sam smirked.

"Well, he doesn't seem pleasant. I do hope our Glee coach is nicer."

"Blaine, that is our Glee coach."

Blaine went quiet, which in Sam's experience was never a good thing. He then raised his hand. "Mr. Schuester?"

"Yes, Blaine?"

He stood, making sure that all eyes were on him. "I would like to apologize in advance for any shenanigans I may cause."

"Thank you, Blaine."

"You're welcome, sir." He sat back down, looking pleased with himself. So began Blaine's first day at McKinley.

By some chance, Blaine was in all of Sam's classes. Luckily, Kurt was not. That left Glee club for their inevitable meeting which Sam knew that Blaine was going to join. There was no possible way he could stop them from interacting. He couldn't win.

The last bell rang and he marched with Blaine to the choir room.

"Blaine, promise me that you will try to behave yourself."

"Sammybean, I am shocked that you would imply that I don't behave myself. When have I ever given you cause to worry?"

"Today, Blaine. Third period." He had asked their US History teacher what his toupee was made out of and then suggested that he looked like a drowned rat.

"That was the truth."

"Blaine."

"Fine, Sam. Don't get your panties in a wad. You just don't want me to embarrass you in front of Billy, right?"

"Yes, Blaine. That's exactly it."

"You're adorable."

"And you're insufferable." He stopped in front of the door, eerily reminded of his own first day in Glee club. "Are you ready?"

"Sammy, baby, I was born ready."

He rolled his eyes, but opened the door anyway. Blaine waltzed in as if he owned the place and stood at the front of the classroom, assessing the club. They stared curiously back.

"Sam, wha-"

"Mr. Schuester, allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Blaine Michael Phillips. I used to live in Nashville, Tennessee and attend a lovely private school called Dalton Academy. That's where I got the blazer. It's nice, isn't it?"

He waited for Schue to consider it. "It's very nice, Blaine."

"Isn't it just? But enough about the blazer. At my old school, I was the lead of our Glee Club, the Warblers."

Puck snickered. Blaine looked at him sharply. "They're majestic animals."

Sam smirked as Puck held his arms up in surrender. He knew firsthand how scary Blaine could be.

"Anyway, I was our lead. With me guiding them, we made it to Nationals three years in a row."

Sam watched as a majority of the jaws in New Directions hit the floor.

"Nationals?" Rachel asked awed.

"Yes and we would have won if not for that stupid soulless Vocal Adrenaline and their lead, Jesse St. Suck."

Rachel smiled. Sam could tell that she definitely approved of this new addition.

"Okay Blaine. How about you exhibit that talent for us?" Schue suggested. Sam took this opportunity to cross in front of Blaine and take his seat next to Quinn and Puck.

"I couldn't possibly, Mr. Schuester. I haven't chosen a song or rehearsed."

"C'mon, Blaine. They've all done it. Even Sam."

Blaine glanced over at Sam. "He sang Jason Mraz, didn't he?"

"I'm Yours actually." Kurt piped up.

"I'm Yours indeed." He recognized the look on Blaine's face. This was not happening. "Fine, I suppose I could do Teenage Dream."

"Excellent."

Blaine stood in the center of the room as if he was waiting on something or someone. Sam realized what it was. "Can I get some back-up here, guys?"

"What?" Mike asked confused.

"You know-" He hummed the beginning of the song. "Back-up."

"You do realize we have a band, Blaine." Schue answered.

Blaine looked appalled. "You mean you don't do acapella here? You call yourselves a show choir?"

"Blaine, just sing the damn song."

Blaine glared at his best friend, but nodded to the band that he was ready to begin.

_Let's go all the way tonight  
No regrets just love  
We can dance until we die  
You and I we'll be young forever_

Sam was hyperaware of the way that Blaine was singing directly to Kurt. He knew that this would lead to nothing good.

_You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream  
the way you turn me on I can't sleep  
let's run away and don't ever look don't ever look back_

He chanced a glance at Kurt and regretted it instantly. The younger boy was entranced by Blaine, his confidence, his voice, his stupid Dalton blazer. In that moment, Sam knew he had lost his chance with Kurt. Possibly forever. And it was all Blaine's fault.

_My heart stops when you look at me  
just one touch now baby I believe  
This is real So take a chance and don't ever look back don't ever look back_

Imma get your heart racing in my skin tight jeans  
be your teenage dream tonight  
Let you put your hands on me in my skintight jeans  
Be your teenage dream tonight

He finished, arms outspread to receive his applause. The entire club cheered loudly, but none louder than Kurt. Blaine winked at him. Sam's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Blaine, welcome to the New Directions!"


	28. In Which the Evans Continue to Fail

Sam attempted to fix his tie, the knot becoming only more gnarled.

"Stop it." Blaine slapped his hands away and worked on untying Sam's knot. "Were you trying to tie a hangmen's noose?"

"Would it get me out of this dinner?"

Blaine only glared at him and went back to work on the knot. Sam sighed. His parents and Blaine's parents were friendly back in Nashville and had insisted that the six of them meet for dinner as soon as possible. Sam had been surprised. This was one of the few times that his parents had ever expressed a want to be around him, but he figured he was more for show than real parental affection.

Sam peered around the corner to their table and saw that both sets of parents had already arrived. "Blaine, they're going to kill me if I don't show up in the next five seconds."

"They'll kill you more if you look like you attempted to strangle yourself with your tie before sitting down at the table."

Sam grumbled as his best friend continued fighting with the tie. "Got it!" He tied it into a neat Windsor knot and assessed Sam critically. "You look passable."

"You're too kind."

"That was me being kind."

He mock laughed at him before pushing Blaine in front of him towards the table. All four of the adults rose to greet them, the Evans looking less than pleased.

"Sam, how long has it been?" Blaine's mother asked as she folded him into an embrace.

"A few months. Not since I left Nashville." He admitted.

"Far too long. We missed your company at those wonderful Dalton Parent's Day dinners." Dalton, being a boarding school, held two Parent's Day dinners a month for homesick students. Sam smiled in memory of them.

"I missed you too." He was surprised how much he meant it. Blaine's parents liked him more than his own parents did.

"Shall we sit?" Sam's father asked awkwardly.

The six of them took their seats, the Evans taking one side of the table and the Phillips taking the other. Sam shot a distressed look to his best friend across from him.

"So boys. How has school been?" Blaine's father asked, digging into the salad that had apparently arrived while the boys were wrestling with Sam's tie.

"Actually, it's been really good. I've been doing a lot better in Pre-Calculus." Sam mentioned, poking a rubbery tentacle-looking thing with his fork.

"Have you now, Sam?" His father was as blank as ever.

"Yeah. I've gotten a tut-"

A buzzing pervaded the table. His father stood up. "I have to take this."

"Right." Sam tried not to be disappointed at the way his father brushed him off, but failed.

"That's great, Sam. I'm glad that your tutor has helped you so much." Blaine's mother sent him an encouraging smile. "Blaine, sweetheart, what about you?"

"Well, mother, I'm glad you asked. I actually have been enjoying my Spanish class a tremendous amount." Sam was sure that Blaine's parents must have heard this before, seeing as they lived with him, but he appreciated that they tried to give them both time to talk.

"Really Blaine?" Blaine's father seemed skeptical. "I thought you called it a 'banal subject, hardly worth my time or attention.'

"That must have been before our Glee coach taught it, right Blaine?" He smiled at his pouting best friend. "He has to stay on his good side to get the solos."

Sam's father returned to the table, stony faced. His mother perked up and watched him carefully. "That was my firm. We have a very important account meeting tonight that must have slipped my mind. We have to leave." Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They had probably planned this, not wanting to spend more time with their son than necessary. It was so typical of them.

"But what about dinner?" Blaine asked earnestly.

"We'll just have to reschedule. I'm terribly sorry about this." Sam's mother answered. She pecked Sam lightly on the cheek and followed her husband out the door.

Blaine picked up his salad and moved beside his best friend. His father in turn took Blaine's seat, so they were all sitting comfortably near each other.

"Anyone in your life right now Sam?" Blaine's mother winked at him cheekily, a trait that her son had mastered as well.

"Not really."

"Sam, what about Billy?" He really didn't want to strangle Blaine in front of his parents, but he certainly felt like it.

"Billie? Is she pretty, Sam?"

"Actually, Billy-"

"Transferred. Gone." Sam tried to look appropriately upset. "Out of state." He ignored the confusion that Blaine was directing towards him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. You look rather upset. She must have been something special."

He smiled. "She was."

"And you, Blaine?"

"Father, I have-"

"Blaine has a crush."

Blaine scoffed. "Please, Sammybean. A crush is when it's unattainable. No, I have a future boyfriend and his name is Kurt Hummel."

"Already, Blaine?" Sam loved the way that Blaine's parents were so accepting of their son's sexuality.

"Yes, already. He's amazing. I'm surprised that no one else snatched him up before I got there. But you can rest assured, he will be mine." Sam inwardly grimaced.

"How serious is it, Sam?"

"He serenaded him with Katy Perry."

The Phillips both gasped. That was a sign of how far Blaine's affections went: Katy Perry was sacred to him and anyone that he graced with her lyrics was almost divine in Blaine's eyes. "That serious?"

Blaine nodded solemnly. "It's fate."

Sam couldn't help but consider that. Was it fate that Blaine had moved to McKinley? And if so, wasn't it also fate that Kurt had been the one to save Sam from Sue Sylvester on the first day? He couldn't answer any of those questions. He, however, did know one thing: he had massively screwed himself over the day that he had told Blaine about "Billy." And now, he needed to find a way to win Kurt over and fast.


	29. In Which Puckzilla is No More

Sam pounded on the door, anxious. He needed someone to talk to, right now. His head was going to explode if he didn't get the words out. "C'mon, open the door."

The door was wretched open. "What do you want, Evans?"

Puck? "Is Quinn here?"

"No, she's not."

"This is her house."

Puck growled quietly, making Sam reevaluate his choice to visit Quinn. "I'll just-"

Quinn appeared beside Puck, hair slightly disheveled and cheeks red. _Oh. _That's why Puck was in a bad mood. "If this is a bad time-"

"Sam?" Quinn seemed confused at his sudden appearance. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to-I just-" He struggled to find the words. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

He felt a gentle hand grab his arm. "Come in, Sam."

"But-"

"Not a word, Puckerman." Quinn told the mohawked boy as she led Sam into the living room. She sat him down on the couch and settled next to him. "Puck, could you get some sodas or something?" She exchanged a sharp glance with him and he left the room grumbling.

"You and Puck?" Sam asked carefully.

"Me and Puck. I don't know what you did, Sam, but…thanks."

"I told you: it's nothing."

Puck returned with three cans of Coke and practically threw one at Sam. He couldn't open that for a while. "So Evans, why the hell are you coming all up in here when I'm trying to get my mack on?"

"Puck! What he means, Sam, is why are you here?"

Sam sighed deeply. It was now or never. "I think…No, I know…But-"

"You're in love with Kurt." Puck interrupted simply, taking a sip of his drink.

Sam's eyes widened. Love? Who said anything about love? A deep seated admiration and a definite like, but love?

Quinn seemed to notice the expression. "We've just seen the way you look at him and I think everyone could feel the tension between you and Blaine in that first Glee practice. It's because of Kurt, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Blaine just…He has this way of getting people to go along with him."

"No way, dude. You're a stud. You're so much cooler than him."

"Kurt seemed pretty enamored by him." He closed his eyes, remembering the expression on Kurt's face as Blaine sang Teenage Dream to him.

"But Sam, Blaine doesn't know Kurt the way that you do. You can't tell over the months that you've been here that you haven't gotten to know Kurt and what he likes."

"Well, yeah, but-"

Quinn shushed him. "No buts. Blaine…"She hesitated. "I don't know Blaine well, but he seems the type to be a bit of a player."

Sam had to agree. "Well, yeah."

"And do you think that's what Kurt needs?"

Sam stopped. What did he think that Kurt needed? Someone as strong as him, someone that wouldn't back down when things got tough, someone to hold him when he cried and tell him that everything was going to be okay. "No, I don't."

"Exactly, Sam. Kurt needs someone like you."

He couldn't help but privately agree.

"So." Sam had almost forgotten Puck was there. "So what are we going to do to get Evans here with his man? Cause y'know, I don't really care, but I'm sick of him moping and interrupting my make out time."

Quinn smiled evilly. Sam made a mental note to not get on her bad side. Ever. "I have a plan."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Cause she's a lady stud, dude. Only the best for Puckzilla." The mohawked boy smirked.

"Puck, what did we say about calling yourself Puckzilla?"

"To not?"

"Exactly." She pulled out a sheet of notebook paper and began writing. "Sam, you are going to have to woo Kurt."

Woo? What the hell? "Okay?"

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Not in the slightest."

She sighed and muttered something about "amateurs" under her breath. "Basically, Sam, we have to get Kurt to fall for you before he falls for Blaine."

"Right…"

"So you need to step up your game."

"I know."

"You know?" Quinn seemed doubtful. "What were you planning on doing?"

"Y'know…" He trailed off. He didn't know.

"That's why you have me. Kurt's a romantic at heart, Sam. He wants flowers, sappy love poems, the whole nine yards. And you are going to give it to him."

"I am?"

"You are."


	30. In Which the First One is the Worst One

Sam hesitated at the door to the choir room. Like Quinn said, this was a now or never moment. This is when the boys were separated from the men. This was the day he would get Kurt Hummel for his own. And he felt like he was about to puke.

"Yo. Evans." Puck slapped him on the back of the head. "You're gonna do this, bro?"

"Yeah." When did his voice become that shaky? "I am."

Puck seemed doubtful that Sam was even going to enter the room, let alone "woo" Kurt. He put on a confident mask and strolled through the door, zeroing in on Kurt. Who Blaine's arm was currently around. Must resist urge to kill Blaine.

"Hey Kurt."

"Hey Sam." He smiled up at him brightly, reminding Sam why he was doing this in the first place.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out later, maybe watch a movie or something?" Start slow, Quinn had said. They had hung out before and watched movies. That wasn't a weird thing to ask, right?

"I can't, Sam." He seemed apologetic. "I'm going out with Blaine later."

What? "What?"

"I texted you like a million times last night. The lovely Mr. Hummel and I are dating. Going out. Courting. Officially." Each of Blaine's synonyms felt like another shot to Sam's chest. Dating. Damn.

He pasted on a smile. "Congrats. To the both of you. I hope you're happy together."

He practically ran for his seat between Quinn and Puck. "So," Quinn whispered. "How did it go?"

Sam dug his phone out of his phone, noting all of the missed texts and their times. They had all been sent when Quinn had been concocting her brilliant plan. He opened one at random.

**SBean, I told you. Kurt Hummel is now officially my boyfriend. –Blaine **

He resisted the overwhelming urge to scream and passed the phone to Quinn. She accepted it, confused, and Sam heard her gasp. "Sam, I am so sorry."

"What?" Quinn gave the phone to her boyfriend. "That's harsh, dude. Want me to delete the messages?"

Sam nodded his head absently, staring straight ahead. What did he think would happen? That Kurt would wait forever until Sam was ready to tell him? Hell, Kurt didn't even know that Sam liked him. Loved him according to Puck.

Schue walked in the room, chipper as ever. "Okay guys, we- Yes Sam?"

He didn't even realize his arm was in the air. "Can I sing something? I just really need to get it out."

"Sure." That was one of the good things about Schue: he never really questioned when you needed to vent.

Sam climbed out of his seat to the front of the room. He borrowed a guitar from one of the guys in the band and told them what song to play. They nodded, waiting on his signal. He began strumming the song, allowing his heart to bleed into his voice.

_Even though you're gone and far away I feel you all around  
I think about it every single day, you got away somehow  
I can't sleep, it's hard to breathe and I still feel you next to me  
Now I can see_

__His voice broke slightly as he started the chorus. He hoped that no one noticed. This song expressed everything that he wanted to say, but couldn't say, at the moment. He kept his eyes firmly on the wall, not daring to watch anyone specifically.

_The first one is the worst one  
When it comes to a broken heart  
Your first love, yeah, you're so young  
And you feel like a falling star_

There's a fire in the city that's burning out tonight  
And you're breathing but you're barely alive  
The first one is the worst one when it comes  
When it comes to a broken heart  


He closed his eyes, thinking of how close he almost came. Hours. All that stood between him and happiness was mere hours. In those meager hours, they had come up with a foolproof plan for Sam to follow. And now he had nothing to show for it.

_'Cause I would walk through a thunderstorm  
Just to kiss you, I'm out here on my own  
Better now than I was before  
But I miss you and I want you to know_

__He made the mistake of glancing over at Blaine and Kurt. Blaine frowned, probably thinking that the song was for Sam's "Billy," transferred somewhere out of state. But Kurt's expression… It almost broke his heart. He was watching Sam so sympathetically and encouragingly. If only he knew this song was for him.

_The first one is the worst one  
When it comes to a broken heart  
Your first love, yeah, you're so young  
And you feel like a falling star_

There's a fire in the city that's burning out tonight  
And you're breathing but you're barely alive  
The first one is the worst one when it comes  
When it comes to a broken heart

He finished, breathing in heavily.

"That was great, Sam." Schue patted him on the back and murmured, "If you need to talk, I'm here, okay?"

He forced a smile. "Sure."

He returned his borrowed guitar and sat back down. Quinn placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Stupid question. "No."


	31. In Which Sam Finds a New Use for Lockers

"Sam! Wait up!" He didn't want to wait. He wanted to leave. But that voice, he couldn't ignore that voice.

"Yeah Kurt?"

"What was that about?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He felt a pang to his chest with this lie. Of course he knew what he was talking about.

"That song, Sam. You…You were singing it about someone."

Sam stopped and leaned against the lockers behind him. Thank God it was after school. He could barely deal with Kurt right now. Forget about dealing with the rest of the school. "Yeah, I was."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt cocked his head to the side questioningly. "I know what it's like to get your heart completely broken."

Sam laughed bitterly. It was ironic, really, that Kurt was offering to help. "I'm okay, Kurt."

Kurt assessed him carefully. "If you're sure…"

"I am."

"Would you at least accept a hug?"

"Why not?" The smaller boy wrapped his arms around Sam's torso and Sam did likewise, burying his face in Kurt's shoulder. Hours…Just hours…

"What the hell is this?" Kurt jolted in his arms at the voice and pushed away. Sam had noticed he had an unfortunate tendency to do that.

"What does it look like, Karofsky?" Sam asked annoyed. That kid had the worst timing.

"It looked like two HOMOS about to get it on the middle of the hallway." He smirked, probably thinking himself clever.

Something snapped inside of Sam. Karofsky, the entire Blaine situation, Kurt pushing away from him yet again…it was too much. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with you, homo?" Karofsky poked a meaty finger into Sam's chest. "Can't get a girlfriend, so you're getting it wherever you can?"

Sam pulled back his arm and punched Karofsky as hard as he could in the nose. He heard Kurt gasp, but he didn't care. Karofsky deserved it.

"Now, you're going to get it!"

The burly boy jumped at him, punching everything he could reach. Sam, being smaller, was able to avoid most of his shots and throw in several of his own. He did, however, receive a rather nasty uppercut to the eye. That hurt.

"Sam, stop it!"

He ignored Kurt and tried to kick Karofsky in the groin. Didn't work.

"What the hell, Evans? You get this touchy when people trash talk your boyfriend? Cause trust me, that homo has it coming to him."

"Shut up!" He pushed Karofsky back into the lockers and began banging his head against the metal. "Don't you ever say that again, you understand me?"

"What are you going to do, this?" Karofsky laughed weakly, the head injury getting to him. "This is nothing, Evans."

"SAM!"

He released Karofsky and punched him in the gut one final time. "You're not even worth it."

He trudged down the corridor towards the parking lot. That hadn't even made him feel better.

"Sam, what was that?" He didn't turn at the sudden, out of breath voice beside him

"That was me beating up Karofsky, Kurt. You saw it. I don't know why you're asking."

"Why, Sam?"

"What do you mean why, Kurt? I don't think you have to ask."

"You should have ignored him." The voice was firm.

Sam pivoted towards him, rage coming back. "Why? So he could say the same shit to you again tomorrow? Or the next day? You act like it doesn't bother you, but I know it does, Kurt. I can see it in your eyes."

Kurt blinked. He had obviously not been expecting that. "You did that for…me?"

"Who else would I have done it for? Blaine?" He almost sneered his best friend's name.

"I just thought that you…" Kurt stopped himself and studied Sam. "You promised that you wouldn't do that for me."

Sam remembered. "Things change, I guess."

"You're a confusing person, Sam Evans."

"Not really."

"Yes really. You make no sense. Your best friend transfers here and instead of being happy, you're moody all of the time. You hang out with Puck and Quinn more than you hang out with Blaine." He held up a finger as Sam tried to interject. "Don't lie about it. Blaine told me. And then you go off and do something like this. Something like this for me when I told you directly not to. And I'm just trying to figure you out."

Sam offered him a tight smile. "Well, good luck with that." He started his trek to the parking lot anew.

"Sam…"


	32. In Which Sam Does a Crappy Job of Hiding

Sam carefully opened the door to the choir room, peering in. Finding it empty, he breathed a sigh of relief and made it far enough into the room to collapse on the piano bench. Word had quickly spread about his fight with Karofsky and he hadn't had a single moment of peace all day. Worst was when Blaine had thanked him for standing up for his boyfriend and saying that he would have done the same if he had been there. That was a lie and Sam knew it. Blaine was his best friend and Sam loved the guy to death most days, but he was never one for physical confrontation. He would have run away with his tail tucked solidly between his legs.

"Sam?" He closed his eyes. The last possible person he wanted to see.

"Yeah?"

Kurt entered and shut the door behind him quietly. "Are you hiding out in here?"

"If I am, I'm doing a crappy job of it." He didn't turn around, but he knew that Kurt had settled himself on the piano bench behind him.

"Let me see your eye."

"No."

"Really, Sam, how old are you? Let me see your eye."

He grudgingly slid half around, allowing the other boy access to his eye. Kurt winced in sympathy.

"Does it hurt?"

Like hell. "Not really."

"Liar." He became quiet. "I never thanked you for that."

"You didn't need to."

"Yes, I did. Thank you, Sam, for defending my honor against Karofsky. Honestly, you're probably the only one at the school that would have done it."

And Sam knew that he was. It was just how things were. But then he realized that something was bothering him about the entire Karofsky situation. "Why does he give you such a hard time?"

Kurt instantly cast his eyes down and Sam knew whatever the answer, it was not going to make him happy. "I know- Karofsky…" He struggled with the words and let out a long sigh. "He kissed me, Sam."

Rage bubbled in his blood like it never had before. "Kissed you? I'm guessing you didn't want him to?"

"Of course not, Sam! He just-I don't know." He was babbling. Sam had never heard him babble before. It was slightly unsettling in this circumstance.

"I'm going to kill him." Sam fumed, the threat obviously full of promise. No one touches Kurt like that and gets away with it.

"Sam, don't worry about it. It's my problem, not yours."

"Like hell it isn't. Kurt, stop being such a martyr and just let me-"

The door opened, signaling the beginning of Glee club. Kurt rose from the piano bench and moved to a chair at the bottom of the riser. "I'm serious, Sam. Please listen to me this time."

He was about to protest when Blaine entered the room, effectively killing the conversation. "What did I miss?" He asked.

"Nothing much." Kurt gave him a wide smile and Blaine pecked him on the lips. Sam turned away. He didn't need to see that.

Luckily, Puck entered and practically dragged him up the riser to a chair on the opposite end as Kurt. "You'll thank me when you don't end up killing your best friend."

Was Blaine really his best friend anymore? Puck had acted in his stead much more lately. But then again, Blaine didn't realize that Sam was completely in love with his boyfriend either.

Shit. That word again. Love. Love? Puck had mentioned it the other day, but now Sam was thinking it too. Was he in love with Kurt? He glanced over at the countertenor, preoccupied with talking to Blaine and decided that yeah, he was. Damn. This was definitely not good.

He barely heard Schue enter. "Guys, Sectionals is coming up and you know what that means?"

"Another duet for Finn and Rachel to sing longingly at each other?" Santana asked snidely.

"Another chance to only use me on the last note?" Mercedes added.

"No. But it is time for another Rachel solo. Rachel, I've chosen the perfect song for you: Don't Cry for Me Argentina."

Sam thought that Rachel would burst from excitement. Whatever.

"Mr. Schue. Why is it always that you choose Rachel to sing these songs? As the rest of the team has said, you are incredibly biased when it comes to her voice. Why can't I try out for the Evita solo?"

Schue was flabbergasted. It seemed that this had never occurred to him. "Kurt, I know you want to sing it, but-"

"But why can't he, Mr. Schuester?" Blaine asked up in earnest. "He would kill it."

"Yeah." The agreement was almost unanimous.

"Let him sing the damn song, Schue." They all looked back at Sam, shocked. It was, after all, the first time in rehearsal he had opened his mouth. "What? He can sing it just as well, if not better, than Rachel. And they're expecting us to use Rachel. Kurt would give us an edge on the competition."

Kurt looked back and beamed at him. He offered a small smile of his own in return.

"I guess we'll have to have a sing-off for it."


	33. In Which Rachel Admits Defeat

**A/N: Wow, I don't typically do these things over here, but whatever. Any of y'all interested in RPing? We are looking for members. Hit my Author page for more info. **

The day of the sing off arrived with much fan fare. In the days leading up to the competition, the club had clearly divided itself into a Rachel faction and a Kurt faction. Sam was amused how much larger Kurt's group was than Rachel's.

The Kurt supporters glared at their rivals, Rachel of course clueless to the glares she was receiving. The tension was evident in the choir room as if something far more sinister was about to go down than a singing competition.

Schuester, ever oblivious of everything going on in his students' lives, chose Rachel to go first. Sam wasn't surprised.

Rachel made her way to the front of the room, poised as ever, and motioned for the band to begin.

She sounded really good, Sam objectively knew, but she always pushed for big, dramatic moments when none were needed instead of concentrating on the emotion of the song. That would be her downfall. She ended her solo with a sweeping note.

"That was great, Rachel!" Schue was obviously pleased with his star. "Kurt, you're up."

Sam watched as he stood up, slightly uneasily. Blaine leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made him smile. Bastard. That should have been him.

Kurt stepped in front of the class, smiling at his supporters. Sam could see the sliver of worry in his eyes. He had no reason. He would knock this out of the park like everything he did. He smiled in return, hoping to see that anxiety disappear.

The music started softly as it had with Rachel. The difference was that Kurt understood the emotion of the song. Hell, he probably understood this song a whole lot more than Rachel. Sam listened to the lyrics and realized how much Kurt could relate. He was Evita, no matter how strange that sounded. And no, Sam hadn't found the Madonna movie as soon as the sing-off was announced. That would be weird.

His voice warmed Sam like nothing else. It was a drug that only Kurt possessed and Sam couldn't survive with it.

The countertenor reached the climax of the song and gazed over the club, stopping at Blaine. The dark haired boy watched on proudly as if the performance was his doing. However, Sam knew it was one hundred percent Kurt.

As he ended the last note, Sam stood up and initiated a standing ovation. If Kurt didn't win this sing-off, there was no justice in the world. Even Schue looked stunned by the powerful performance.

"Kurt, that was fantastic! Okay guys, we have to vote. Rachel?"

Finn raised his hand in support of his girlfriend. Unsurprisingly, no one else did.

"Rachel, you're not voting for yourself?"

"Objectively, Kurt's performance was superior to mine as much as I hate to admit it."

"All right. And Kurt?"

The rest of the hands went up.

Schue turned to the boy. "Congratulations." A smile split Kurt's face in half from the joy of it.

"Thank you all." He shared a grateful look with his teammates, lingering on Sam. Sam nodded his head in return. He deserved the solo. He deserved so much that Sam wished that he could give.


	34. In Which Billy is Imaginary

**Dragon_Slayer: **Oh Sammy, I'm in love.

Sam assessed the blinking IM icon warily, weighing the pros and cons of answering Blaine at the moment.

**Na'viRocky: **You're in heat.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Oh look. A prude pretending to acknowledge the difference.

**Na'viRocky: **You're a terrible person.

**Dragon_Slayer: **And you love me anyway. Back to me.

**Na'viRocky: **Our favorite topic of conversation.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Exactly! I'm in love.

**Na'viRocky: **With Kurt?

**Dragon_Slayer: **No, with you, you ignoramus! I long for the day that I can bear your adorable bottle blond babies and grow old with you.

**Na'viRocky: **I just threw up in my mouth.

**Dragon_Slayer: **I figured.

**Na'viRocky: **So with Kurt?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Like you need to ask! He's amazing! He's ridiculously witty and sings like an angel and have I mentioned his ass in tight jeans? Your Billy must be epic if you fell for him instead of Kurt.

**Na'viRocky: **Yeah, he was.

Still is, Sam reminded himself. Just not mine.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Speaking of which, what happened to him?

**Na'viRocky: **Exactly what I said at dinner. He moved out of state.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Kurt said that he's never heard of him.

**Na'viRocky: **You told him?

Sam did not enter freak out mode. Not at all. What exactly did Blaine tell him? Did Kurt know about the crush?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Relax. I only told him that I had heard of this guy named Billy in Glee and I wanted to see a tape of him singing. Nothing about your epic crush.

**Dragon_Slayer: **So Billy's imaginary? Did you make him up?

**Na'viRocky: **Blaine, I'm not talking about this with you.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Fine, fun sucker. Keep your imaginary boyfriend to yourself then.

**Na'viRocky: **Blaine! Drop it!

**Dragon_Slayer: **You are so touchy lately. Geez. Go take a Midol and calm down.

**Na'viRocky: **You're an ass.

**Dragon_Slayer: **And you insist on insulting at every turn. I might as well anyway. My boyfriend and I are hitting the Sticks tonight and making people uncomfortable with our gayess.

**Dragon_Slayer: **It's like they expect the conversation to go "Gay gay gay. Gay gay. Oh my gosh. I open my mouth and a little purse comes out." I mean, how stereotypical is that?

**Dragon_Slayer: **Sam? Are you even listening to me?

Sam jolted at the ping, deep in his thoughts. The Sticks, huh. Interesting.

**Na'viRocky: **Yeah, sorry. Got distracted.

**Dragon_Slayer: **For shame.

**Na'viRocky: **You and Kurt have fun okay?

**Dragon_Slayer: **That's exactly what I was planning. If you get my drift.

Sam definitely got it. This was not good for anyone involved. Except maybe Blaine. But Sam wasn't worried about Blaine. He was worried about Kurt. A cool tendril of dread swirled in the pit of his stomach.

**Dragon_Slayer: **Ciao!

Sam barely registered Blaine's goodbye and grabbed his cell phone, pressing speed dial five. The line rang four times before someone picked up.

"Sam?"

"Quinn, I need your help."

"What's going on?"

"Blaine and Kurt are going to Breadsticks."

"And what do you want me to do about this? Tackle them?"

Could she do that? "No, I'm more worried about what will happen afterwards."

"Oh. Sam, you don't even know if that's what's going to happen."

"Blaine said he would. And Blaine doesn't joke when it comes to sex." He sighed. "I just don't want him to force Kurt into anything that he doesn't want to do."

"Would he do that?"

"He's known for being rather pushy."

Quinn was quiet for a moment. "I'll pick you up in ten minutes then?"

"Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah." He could hear the smirk in her voice as she hung up.

Sam felt a sudden rush of gratitude for the blond girl. She had helped him so much with this Kurt situation, much more than what Sam had done for her. He had to repay her, but how?

Puck's voice floated into his head and the light bulb went off.

"That's it!" He scooped up his phone and scrolled through his contacts until finding the one he wanted.

"Hey, it's Sam. Evans? I was wondering if…"


	35. In Which Sam in Under the Table

"Here you are." The host escorted Sam and Quinn to their table.

"Thank you."

Sam peered around anxiously. "I don't see them. What if Blaine was lying?"

"Why would he lie? Relax, Sam. They're probably just here yet." Quinn, forever the voice of reason, flipped through the menu calmly.

"So then, I said 'why not?'" Speak of the devil. The familiar voice of Blaine carried to his ears, followed by Kurt's soft laughter.

"Crap, they're here." He instantly dived under the table.

"Samuel David Evans," Quinn hissed, peering down at him annoyed. "You look ridiculous. Get up!"

"But Quinn-"

"No, you are drawing attention to yourself. You asked me here to spy on them and that can't happen while you're under the table hiding."

He grudgingly had to agree with her logic and climbed up into the booth.

"Act natural." She muttered.

"Right." He opened his menu, trying to appear that he was scanning the appetizer selection while really keeping ears open for Kurt and Blaine.

"They're over there." She nodded to the glass partition separating them from another row of booths. Sure enough, they were right beside the pair.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"You were too distracted by the underside of the table."

"You-"

"Are we ready to order?"

"Yes. I'll have the spaghetti and meatballs and water. Sam?"

"Uh-" He glanced at the menu for inspiration. "Lasagna and Pepsi."

"Okay then. Your meals will be out directly."

Quinn idly picked up a breadstick from the center of the table and snapped it in half. "You know, to name the restaurant after these, they kind of suck."

"Right." He was acting natural. He was cool, calm, and collected. He was-

"I was thinking after this we could watch a movie or something. Maybe you could back to mine?"

Mad. Sam was mad. He knew exactly what was on Blaine's agenda for the evening and it wasn't movies.

"I don't think so, Blaine. It's a school night. My dad didn't even want me to go to dinner with you."

Sam felt a rush of affection for Burt Hummel.

"Sam-"

"Ssssh." He held up a finger to his lips and pointed at the boys next to them.

"But Kurt-"

"Blaine, I said no. I meant no."

Sam's face broke into a wide relieved smile.

"I swear, if you get up and start your happy dance, I won't claim you."

"This is good, Quinn!" He might have raised his voice a bit higher than he intended.

"Quinn?"

"I just want you to remember that this is your fault." She whispered at Sam.

"Quinn?" Kurt repeated, now standing up and gaping at them from the other side of the divider. "What are doing here? With Sam?"

"Y'know, just having dinner. Can't two friends have dinner, Kurt?" So much for acting natural Quinn.

"Sure." He seemed skeptical. "I thought you were dating Puck?"

"I am! Friends, Kurt."

"Sam! What are you doing here?" Blaine had appeared next to Kurt. They were officially screwed.

"Having dinner with Quinn."

Blaine frowned at him. 'I thought you were gay.' He mouthed.

Sam could have slammed his head on the table in embarrassment. "As friends."

"Right…" He could tell Blaine didn't believe them any more than Kurt did.

"Do you want to join us?" Sam almost got whiplash from twisting suddenly to gawk at Quinn. What?

"No thank you, Quinn." Kurt answered stiffly.

"We're on a date, actually."

"Ah." Quinn turned to Sam with a slight shrug. "Don't let us keep you from it."

"Actually, we were just leaving." Sam stood up and motioned for Quinn to do the same.

"Have you even eaten?" Kurt asked confused.

"Not hungry."

"Then why come to Breadsticks, Sam?" Damn all of these completely logical questions.

"Because!" He stomped away from the table like a petulant four year old. Damn Kurt being so observant. Damn his stupid idea to spy on them. Damn Blaine for coming in and stealing Kurt when he was so close.

"Sam, what the hell was that?" Quinn was understandably upset, Sam supposed. She did have a certain bit invested in his nonexistent relationship with Kurt and she did agree to help him spy.

"I couldn't do it. The two of them together..." He pushed the door open and trudged towards her car, hands in his pockets. Quinn chased after him.

"What about the two of them together?"

"He looks happy, Quinn. I…I don't want to mess that up."

"So what? You're giving up? Blaine wins? You're not even going to try?" She was raging now.

"…Maybe." Damn did that word taste bitter on his tongue. "Maybe Blaine is better for him than I thought." He leaned against the back of her car, feeling defeated.

"No. No, he's not and you're an idiot for saying so."

"Sam!" They both startled at the voice.

"Go see what he wants." She pushed him towards the brunette rushing towards them.

"Yeah Kurt?"

"You know, Thanksgiving's coming up and I know you live alone and everything, so I figure you don't have a real Thanksgiving dinner and I was talking to my dad and-"

"Huh?"

Kurt sighed. "My dad wants me to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner. He wants to thank you for defending me against Karofsky, even if I still think you were an idiot for doing it."

"He doesn't have t-"

"No, he wants to. Please Sam? It would make him really happy." He paused slightly. "It would make me really happy too."

And really, how could Sam say no to that? "Okay then."


	36. In Which the Navigator is Accesorized

There were legs under the SUV in the driveway. That was the first thing Sam registered as he pulled up to the Hummel house. He turned off the ignition and stared at them. They were clad in baggy, dirty jeans and heavy work boots, he could tell. Must be Mr. Hummel, remembering what Kurt had told him about his dad's business.

Shutting the door to his truck, he made it to the slightly elevated SUV. Kurt's SUV, he noted. "Uh, Mr. Hummel?"

There was a bang and a decidedly different voice muttering "shit" before the person on the creeper rolled out from under the car. Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "Kurt?"

"Hi." The brunette rubbed at his unusually messy hair, soothing the spot where Sam assumed he had hit.

"What were you doing under there?"

"Accessorizing the undercarriage." He deadpanned. "The brake line was leaking. I had to replace it."

"You, doing car repair?"

"I told you, Sam, I'm full of surprises." He stood up unsteadily and looked down, groaning. "I look disgusting."

Sam privately had to disagree. In his tight dirty white t-shirt smeared with what Sam figured to be brake fluid and his scruffy hair reminiscent of its state during Empire State of Mind, he didn't look disgusting in the slightest. He looked rather hot actually. In fact, it took more willpower than Sam wanted to admit to keep from tackling the countertenor and kissing the air out of him.

Kurt grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. "Here, just wait in the living room while I change."

Sam stood self consciously in the center of the living room. What was he supposed to do? He moved to the mantle place, analyzing the pictures sitting there. He laughed softly at a picture of a younger Kurt giving the camera a fierce "bitch please" face. He hadn't changed at all.

"Sam Evans."

The voice caught him by surprise and his elbow caught the edge of the mantle place. He pasted on a smile to greet the owner. Ow.

"You okay?" Burt asked concerned.

"Fine."

"You hit your elbow pretty good."

"I'm fine. Really."

The older man strode to Sam and stuck out his hand. "Kurt told me what you did for him. Thank you."

He shook the hand, elbow throbbing slightly. "It was nothing."

"No, it definitely was something." He sat down on the couch and gestured that Sam do the same. He did. "I'm sure you've noticed by now that Kurt's stubborn. Extremely strong, but stubborn. He's convinced himself that he's not going to let this bullying bother anyone else, so he doesn't tell me about it. Whatever's going on is really getting to him as much as he doesn't want me to know that.

He shook his head. "He should defend himself, but he won't. 'It's my hill to climb,' he tells me. I don't want him to climb that hill alone. So when you beat up that kid Karofsky because he was picking on him, that meant a lot to me, Sam. I know he's not happy you stepped in, but I am."

Sam was speechless. "I- I don't know what to say, Mr. Hummel. I mean, I just did the right thing."

"Yeah, but a lot of people wouldn't have. They would have been afraid of what would have happened to them afterwards. They would have worried that they would have been picked on next."

"It would have been worth it." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He stared at Burt, wide eyed. "I mean-"

"Sam, are you in-"

"Dad!" Perfect timing, Kurt. "Are you scaring Sam?" The younger boy sauntered over to an armchair next to the couch and sat down neatly, now garbed in a navy blue sweater and tight white slacks, not a hair out of place.

"Of course not." He gave Sam a side eye, assessing him carefully. Sam didn't really care to know why.

"Okay, well, the turkey is almost done. I'm going to see if Carole needs any help." Kurt left them for the kitchen. Sam wished that he hadn't.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Burt asked softly, eyes darting to the door swinging closed that Kurt had disappeared through.

"I-" What could he say to that? "Mr. Hummel, I-"

"We're ready!" Kurt announced, sticking his head through the door, face aglow.

Sam shot up from the couch, thankful for the distraction. What could he have said? Burt followed closely behind him.

"Sam, you sit here." Kurt pointed to the seat next to where Burt had sat down.

"You sure?" This might be awkward.

"He won't bite you!" Kurt admonished before returning to help Carole.

"For the record, I like you better than that Blair kid." Burt muttered. Sam blushed slightly. Did everyone get it but Kurt?

Carole entered the room carrying a delicious looking browned turkey, Kurt and Finn both following with side dishes. "Looks delicious, Mrs. H."

She beamed. "Thank you, Sam! We're so glad that you're joining us."

"Me too." He couldn't remember the last time he and his parents had sat down for dinner, just the three of them. This was another world.

The rest of the family settled into their chairs, Finn beside Sam and Kurt and Carole across from them. "Why don't we go around the table and say what we're thankful for? Sam, why don't you start?"

He stared at his lap, searching for a decent response. "I'm thankful that I've made such great friends here in Lima." That wasn't bad, was it?

"And we're thankful we found you too, Sam." He looked up directly into Kurt's eyes. What he was truly thankful for was moving to Lima and being able to know him. Why couldn't he just tell Kurt that?


	37. In Which Flailing is Not Appropriate

In the practices leading up to Sectionals, one thing became painfully apparent: Sam was a terrible dancer. Even Finn, the self-proclaimed worst dancer of the group, had to agree. Schue had just smiled sympathetically and asked someone to volunteer to give him some extra help with their routine. And who could have decided to help but Kurt. Sam was screwed.

He arrived at Kurt's afterschool for the practice, noting that his truck and the SUV were the only cars in the driveway. Kurt opened the door shortly after he knocked.

"Where is everyone?"

"Dad and Carole are both at work and Finn's at Rachel's." He listed off. "Why?"

"No reason." It had been a while, actually since their first tutoring session, that he had been alone in the house with Kurt. The thought didn't make him uncomfortable, per say, but he definitely was nervous.

"Well, come on then! We're wasting time!" He grabbed a couple of water bottles from the kitchen and then shooed Sam down the stairs.

As Sam reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed an obvious change. "What happened to your furniture?"

"I had Finn push it against the wall so we would have more room."

More room to dance. Just dancing. Nothing else. "Good idea."

"You ready?" Kurt asked, already heading toward his stereo.

"Yeah, sure."

Kurt started the first track they would sing at Sectionals. "It's not the instrumental version," Kurt noted as he patiently arranged Sam into their starting position for the dance. "Because I figure you need to learn how to dance first before you try them at the same time."

"Good idea." He tried to fight off the blush that was threatening to build from being so close to Kurt.

"Okay, now follow me." He started out slowly enough, doing a basic shimmy and side step. "Think you got that?"

"Hmmm?" Sam most certainly did not have it. He was too busy being distracted by Kurt's dancing.

Kurt chuckled. "You're hopeless, Sam."

"Pretty much."

"It's not actually that hard. Watch me." He pushed Sam down on the couched and restarted the track.

And watch Sam did. It was hard to concentrate on the exact moves Kurt was making when he was smoothly gliding across the floor, lost in the music.

"So," Kurt started as the music drew to a close. "You think you can do that?"

"…I'll try." He stood up, standing beside Kurt, and waited for the music to begin. He tried to imitate Kurt's flawless moves, but ended up just flailing a lot.

Kurt shut the speaker off and laughed. "What are you doing?"

"Copying you…"

He smirked. "Really? Because I don't think I looked that spastic. One more time, Sam."

Kurt restarted the music and talked Sam through the steps. "To your left. Your other left. That's good!"

They finished the first number, both panting slightly as they grabbed their water bottles. "That was really good, Sam!"

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Really?"

"I mean, you're no Mike Chang, but you should make it though the number without embarrassing yourself too badly."

"Thank you, Kurt. Really. It means a lot." He answered dryly.

Kurt just laughed. "C'mon, Swayze. We still have one number to do."

Sam was suddenly nervous. This was the partner dance. He would have to practice it with Kurt. Damn.

Kurt smiled at him. "You ready for this one?"

He gulped down another sip of water. "Sure."

"Okay, couple dancing. Of course you'll be leading so this hand goes here-" He placed one of Sam's hands on his waist. "And this one goes here." He clasped the other hand in his own. "Okay?"

Sam nodded, unable to speak. Why could he just tell Kurt what was on his mind?

"Okay, Schue wants something like a waltz, but sped up about a million times. You think you can handle that?"

"Maybe?"

Kurt laughed. "It's not hard. Just make a box." He stepped away from Sam, demonstrating a simple box step, and then nestled himself back in his arms. "Just like that."

"Just like that." Sam attempted to copy Kurt's moves until he saw him wince. "Sorry about your foot."

"It's fine, Sam. Just keep going."

Sam did. He had no other choice. This moment couldn't be real: awkwardly waltzing with Kurt Hummel in his basement. Stuff like this didn't happen to him. It was too perfect.

"Sam? Sam!" Sam shook his head.

"What?"

"The music stopped." Kurt cocked his head at him. "You okay?"

Sam smiled down at him. "Yeah, I'm good. Now I just-"

He took one awkward step to the right and they both tumbled over, Kurt lying on Sam's chest. He might have forgotten how to breathe, every inch from his chest to his knee connected with Kurt. Kurt's hand was warm on his chest and his eyes were wide as he stared at Sam. "I-um." Wow, this was awkward.

Kurt scrambled up, flustered. "I think you should go, Sam. It's getting late."

He checked the clock on the wall. It wasn't even five. "But we didn't-"

"Goodbye, Sam." Kurt pushed him towards the stairs and disappeared into his bathroom. Sam trudged up to the first floor, confused. What the hell just happened?


	38. In Which They're On in Five

Kurt didn't mention their dance practice in the next couple days or make plans for any more, but Sam figured it was just as well. He didn't know if he could go through another one. He had apparently improved enough for Schue's standards anyway.

The bus ride up to Sectionals was longer than Sam expected. He sat in the rear of the bus beside Puck glaring at the back of his best friend's head. He was jittery, not just because of the performance but because of his surprise for Puck and Quinn as well.

"What if you just told him?" Quinn tried to reason in the seat in front of them.

"Told who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Blaine. What would he do?"

Sam scoffed. "Probably throw a tantrum and then ignore the problem."

Quinn frowned. "You can't just give up, Sam. Not after what you told us about your dance practice."

Puck, who had been idly watching Quinn, snorted. "Hummel totally wants in your pants."

"Puck!"

"What? Am I lying, Quinn?"

She chose to ignore him. "The two of you have some serious chemistry, Sam. You can't just let that go."

"I know." He muttered, moving his gaze to Kurt. "I know."

"Okay, we're here! Everybody off the bus!" Sam picked up his garment bag and shuffled off the bus after Quinn. "Remember, we're here to have fun, guys. No pressure."

"Except for Rachel screaming at us every time we screw up." Puck muttered. Rachel glared at him.

"All right! I guess you can go find your greenroom and I'll see you there in a minute."

Sam lagged behind, grabbing Rachel's arm. "You did it, right?"

She delicately grasped his wrist and threw it off of her. "Yes, Sam, I did it. Anything to help a fellow Glee Clubber."

Sam smiled brightly. "I know we haven't really…ever spoken, but I do appreciate this a lot, Rachel. I just want you to know that."

She seemed slightly taken aback. "It was nothing, Sam. I promise."

"Still." He drew her into a hug. "Thank you."

She tentatively patted him on the back. "You're welcome, Sam."

He let go and cocked out an arm for her to take. "Shall we?"

She beamed at him as she took it. "So what's going on with you and Kurt?"

He groaned. "Does everyone know about it but Kurt?"

"And Blaine." She answered cheerfully.

"Fantastic."

They arrived at the greenroom. "Rachel, please just don't mention it to anyone."

"The Kurt thing or-"

"Both. Definitely both. I don't care how many people know. Kurt can't find out."

She tilted her head to the side questioningly. "You don't make any sense."

"So I've been told." He pushed her inside the room.

His eyes automatically found Kurt and Blaine nestled in a corner. He glared at them. Why did they deserve to be happy when he was suffering? He shook his head. Now he was just being ridiculous.

"Evans!" Puck waved him over to where he and Quinn were sitting in the opposite corner. Sam sat down between them. "What's up?"

"No idea." He answered truthfully. He had absolutely no idea what was wrong with him.

"You might need to get changed in a minute, dude. We're on first." Sam nodded absently, picking up his garment bag and heading to the bathrooms to change. He quickly pulled on the maroon button up and black slacks, grimacing in the mirror at himself. The lights flickered. He blinked at them. There was a gentle knock at the door.

"Sam?" Kurt.

"Yeah Kurt?"

"We're on in five. We need to get backstage."

Crap. "Thanks." He looked into the mirror for a final time and sighed. Okay. Showtime.

He scurried out of the bathroom and hung his street clothes up on the rack to the rest of the club's.

"Okay guys. Sectionals." Mr. Schue beamed at them. "Step one to Nationals. We are going to go out there and give it all that we've got. Right?"

"Right!" The group intoned back.

"All right! Everyone but Finn and Rachel, head backstage. Finn, Rachel, you know what to do."

With their assignments given, the club scattered. Sam caught up with Puck and Quinn.

"Are you nervous, Sam?" Quinn asked.

"Should I be?"

She shrugged. "It depends, I guess."

"Are you?"

"Last time we performed, I went into labor. I'm a little bit nervous."

Puck slung an arm around her shoulders and Sam laughed. "I don't think there's any chance of that happening this time, is there?"

Quinn and Puck exchanged an alarmed glance. Sam's eyes widened. "There's not, is there?"

They both burst out laughing. "You should have seen your face, Evans!"

"You're a bastard, Puckerman." He glared to add to the point.

He slapped Sam on the back. "Oh, I love you, Evans. I truly do. You're so much fun to screw with."

"I hate you, Puck." He grinned despite himself. It was show time.


	39. In Which Sam Has the Time of His Life

Sam stood in the wings of the stage. This was it.

"And now for last year's Sectional winners, The New Directions!"

The beginning chords of Time of My Life started up. He could imagine Finn and Rachel preparing to make their dramatic entrance from the back of the auditorium.

_Now I've had the time of my life…_

There was Finn, voice surprisingly strong in the loud auditorium. Sam smiled. Right now, he was appearing from one of the two doors to the lobby. According to Quinn, Rachel had done that at last year's Sectionals and it was a big crowd pleaser.

"Puck! Shut up!" He heard Quinn hiss behind him. He shook his head. They really were awesome together, Quinn and Puck, but like all couples, sometimes they got on each other's nerves. It was sort of adorable actually. Sam wondered if he and Kurt would ever have anything like that.

He watched the spotlights flash from the other side of the curtain. Crap. It was almost time for them.

_This could be love._

The curtain rose and he danced out, desperately trying to remember the moves that Kurt had taught him. Kick, kick, kick. Left, left. Point.

He tried not to look out to the audience. It was pointless, really. The spotlights were so bright on them, blinding almost, that it was impossible to make out more than shapes. He knew that Mr. Schuester was somewhere out there. He also knew that Puck and Quinn's surprise was as well. He chanced a side glance at them. Sam hoped that they would like it.

Finn and Rachel reached climax the climax of the song, raising their arms proudly as they belted the last note. The club held it for a moment before cutting it off.

The audience rose to their feet applauding. Sam panted, a bright grin lighting up his face. This is what it was about. This must be why they put up with Rachel, the bruised egos, the stubbed toes. In the meant, where the audience cheered, Sam felt invincible. He snuck a glance to Kurt who was sharing a pleased expression with Blaine and felt his smile slip. Not quite invincible then.

The bouncy intro to their next song began playing. Sam smoothly crossed the stage to take his dance partner's, Tina, hand. He didn't know much about the girl, but she seemed sweet enough and didn't mind the countless times he messed up during rehearsal.

Santana started singing. He had been pleasantly surprised at Schue's decision to give her a solo for Sectionals. Of course he had thought, it should have gone to Kurt, but it was at least a nice break from the constant stream of Rachel songs. Sam barely kept up with the tempo, leading Tina through spins and the box step.

_Why don't come on over, Valerie?_

He heard the audience exclaim. He knew it was for Brittany and Mike doing some sort of complex dance move, but it gave him the confidence to push through and somehow avoid making a complete fool of himself onstage. He spun Tina out one final time and held their final pose. The audience once again leapt up. The club froze to receive their applause for several moments before retreating backstage.

"Sam?" He turned at the brunette's voice.

"Yeah Kurt?

The younger boy smiled shyly. "You didn't embarrass yourself. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." He flushed slightly in the low light.

"Anytime." Sam watched Kurt jog to catch up to where Blaine was waiting. He sighed.

"Cheer up, emo kid." Two arms snaked around his shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah because it's just that simple. Get off of me, Puckerman."

"But Sammy, you're just so irresistible. I need you."

He ducked to escape Puck's arms and glared back at him. "You're a bastard. This is why I like Quinn better."

Puck's expression changed immediately, going from mock seductive to protective, and he grabbed Quinn, who had been standing off to the side, by the waist. "Mine."

She smacked him lightly. "Neanderthal."

"Your Neanderthal."

She smiled, pleased. "Yeah."

Sam cleared his throat, effectively ending the moment. "Can you guys come with me for a second?"

They both blinked at him, surprised. "Yeah, I guess?" Quinn answered, grabbing Puck's hand and following Sam down the narrow hall that extended from the backstage.

"So, you guys have been helping me a lot lately and I've been really grateful to you. I wanted to do something to repay you."

"Sam, you didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, I did, Quinn. You've dealt with more than anyone should have to deal with from me. You deserve this."

He stopped at the door to the lobby. "I hope you like it."

"Is it a car?"

"It's not a car, Puck. I hope it's better than a car."

Puck and Quinn exchanged a confused glance. Sam smiled and pushed open the door to the lobby. He could see their surprise waiting, nestled safely in the arms of her adoptive mother. "Go."

They turned slowly to face the lobby. Quinn's eyes doubled in size and she ran over to them. Puck hung back for a second, tears in his eyes.

"Beth?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I got Rachel to give me Shelby's phone number and talked to her about it. She's more than willingly to make this an open adoption if you want. She wants Beth to know her birth parents."

Puck almost tackled Sam into a hug. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to us."

Sam patted his back. "You're welcome. Now go see your daughter."

Puck wandered over to Shelby and Quinn almost in a trance. Sam watched him, feeling as if he was intruding an intimate family moment. He sort of was really, he noticed. He slipped from the door and made his way back to the green room, ready to change back into his normal clothes. His work was done.


	40. In Which Baby is Not Cold Outside

Sam stared at the first place trophy in awe. He still couldn't believe they had won. The Hipsters had performed a moving rendition of the Living Years while the girls from the Jane Adams School had produced some hip gyrating number. He wasn't able to actually catch the singing, being too distracted by the hair flying and trust him, there had been a lot of it. When their name had been announced as the winners, he might have yelled "YES" loud enough for the rest of the team to turn to him as if he was crazy, but he wasn't telling.

"All right guys! We have Sectionals won and out of the way!" The club cheered at Schue's statement. "But Regionals is still coming up in April! We need to be well prepared if we want to beat Vocal Adrenaline and make it to Nationals, but I think we can do it. I know we can do it!"

He quieted down the club before starting again. "Now we all know the holidays are around the corner." Sam rolled his eyes. Around the corner, indeed. Christmas break was looming at the end of the week. "And what better way to get us into the Christmas spirit than with a Christmas song? Take it away, Blaine and Kurt!" Sam's head shot up as he announced the names. Not again. He glanced at Quinn and Puck who were staring back at him with alarm.

Kurt and Blaine made their way to the front of the room, Kurt coyly perching himself on a chair. Right away, Sam knew this wasn't going to be fun to watch. The band began to play and he shut his eyes. Not this song. He most certainly recognized it from past Warbler Christmas concerts. It was one of Blaine's favorites, usually sung with a guy that he had his eye on.

_I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside_

_I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside_

He groaned in frustration. He knew the pattern: Blaine would take up the part of the pursuer typically chasing the other boy around the stage playfully, begging him to stay until reaching the end where he would lean in for a kiss. And if the rumors were true, typically something more after the show was over. What the hell had he done to upset someone upstairs enough that they would do this to him?

The song was taking its typical fashion, Kurt strolling pointedly away from him and Blaine following like a love sick puppy with a strange glint in his eye. He knew that glint. This was not happening.

He whispered to Quinn, "I'm going to kill him."

"Why?"

"I need a reason at this point?"

She shrugged. "For the jury, yes."

"This is the song that Blaine uses to seduce guys."

Quinn turned to him slightly, eyebrows raised. "And you think that-"

"I know that he will. They do anything he says after they sing this song."

"Oh no."

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

He turned back to the front, watching Blaine seduce the boy that he loved. What was fair about that? He had seen Kurt first, gotten close to Kurt first. Really this was his own fault for making up that stupid story about Billy in the first place. He could hardly bring himself to imagine what would be happening now if he hadn't. Would he and Kurt be cuddled up beside each other, trading short pecks when they thought no one was looking? Would he still be conflicted about his feelings? He seethed as his thought process continued. One thing was for certain though: he wouldn't have had to live through this performance.

_I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move closer_

_At least I'm gonna say-_

"HE SAID NO!" The entire club turned to Sam in shock. His eyes doubled in size. What had he just said? "Um…I mean…that in the song…yeah."

Blaine looked slightly irritated while Kurt simply seemed concerned. "Sam, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine." Not. He pasted a grin hoping to sell it.

Kurt shook his head. "I don't think so. C'mon. We're going to go talk."

Blaine began protesting, but Kurt silenced him with quiet murmurs. He sighed, but allowed Kurt to go. He traipsed to the door of Schue's office and turned back expectantly. "Sam? C'mon."

Quinn patted his back as he stood up and steeled himself for this. He was probably about to get yelled at for ruining the duet. But his reasoning was good. In a way. In a completely jealous sort of way, but it was there. "Good luck, Evans."

"Thanks, Puck. I'll need it." He traveled slowly to the door where Kurt waited expectantly, feeling like a man condemned. May God or whoever else was out there have mercy on his soul.


	41. In Which Puck is Devious

Sam slowly shut the door to Schue's office, hand lingering on the doorknob.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

He turned back to Kurt, who had perched himself on the desk, looking every bit as tempting as Sam's dreams suggested. He shook his head. No time for thinking like that right now.

"You don't want to tell me what happened out there?" Kurt cocked his head to the side, waiting for a response.

"I just-You said no."

"Yes…" He replied slowly as if speaking to a child. "It's part of the song, Sam."

"But you said no. I mean after what happened with Karofsky-"

Kurt laughed. "That's what that was about? You were protecting me?"

He nodded slowly, eyes glued to the floor.

"Oh Sam. What am I going to do with you?" He peered up to see Kurt watching him fondly.

"I don't know." He mumbled. There really wasn't a safe answer he could give.

"I suppose I should thank you though for your noble attempt. But Sam, I want you to know that I'm okay. I can protect myself. Blaine's my boyfriend. He wasn't doing anything I didn't want him to do. It was a song, Sam. That's all."

"No it wasn't." He muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, Kurt."

Kurt looked at him skeptically. "Anyway, if he was, I could kick his ass. And then my dad would do it. But trust me. He's not." He sighed. "He's not really doing anything actually. It's weird. When we're in Glee club, he's wonderful, all attentive and loving, but the second we leave almost, he turns into this big brother."

Sam instantly was confused. Blaine? Blaine not trying to get into Kurt's pants? What was going on here?

"So. You don't have to worry about me, Sam. I can handle myself just fine."

"If you're sure…" He trailed off skeptically.

Kurt laughed and leaned in, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. He tried to ignore the heat radiating from the spot. "I'm sure, Sam." He glanced out of the long window in the door. "We should probably go back out there. They'll think that you kidnapped me or something." He hopped gracefully off of the desk and stood at the door. "C'mon, cowboy. Let's go face the music."

"Cowboy?"

He giggled at the expression on Sam's face. "You're from Tennessee, right? Cowboy. Duh.

"Oh." He furrowed his eyebrows. "How did you know-"

"Blaine." Kurt answered simply. "He is your best friend after all."

Sam felt a stab of guilt. "Yeah. He is."

"He misses you. He told me that. You two haven't spent much time together since he moved to Lima." Kurt observed, leaning against the door frame.

Sam stared at the floor, face burning in embarrassment. "Yeah, I know."

"You should hang out with him. Maybe go see a movie or something?" Kurt suggested.

Sam laughed at that slightly. "You're his boyfriend, not me. I don't trust Blaine in a dark movie theater."

He watched as Kurt's face turned from shock to amusement. "Really now? I might have to test that out."

He could have smacked himself. Giving Kurt ideas with Blaine? The most counterproductive thing that he could do. Smiling awkwardly, he placed his hand on the door knob. "We should go."

"Yeah." Kurt leaned back from the door long enough for Sam to swing it open and place a foot in the doorway. Kurt did likewise.

"STOP!"

Sam froze, alarmed. He turned to glance at Kurt, noting a similar expression on his angelic features.

"Look up." Puck clarified, pointing.

He did. Shit. There in the door frame was the unmistakable greenery of mistletoe. The mistletoe that had so not been there before he and Kurt had had their little powwow. Sam glared at Puck, who looked rather pleased with himself. "You gotta do it, Evans."

He looked at Kurt, who was staring at the decoration uneasily. "We don't have to, Kurt. I know you have a boyfriend and-"

Kurt waved him off. "We're friends right? And it's just a kiss between friends. It doesn't have to mean anything."

Sam's stomach dropped. Friends. Right. "Yeah, I guess so."

Kurt smiled at him. "Then kiss me, Sam."

He leaned in nervously, licking his lips and slowly closed the distance between them. He felt a jolt of electricity as his lips touched Kurt's. Whoa. He moved his lips tentatively, noticing Kurt do the same. He shuffled in closer, placing a hand on Kurt's hip. Sam froze as he felt Kurt slide his tongue hesitantly across his bottom lip. This wasn't a kiss between friends. Now this was something more.

Sam opened his mouth, moaning quietly as Kurt licked into it, exploring every crevice. Slipping his tongue into Kurt's mouth, he moved his other hand up to the back of Kurt's head, holding him close. Kurt wrapped his own arms around Sam's neck. His eyes flickered open, shocked, when he heard a low groan coming from Kurt.

"Ahem." They jumped apart at the noise. Blaine stared at them, scratching his nose slightly. "Sam, can I talk to you?"

His eyes widened. Shit. He had been making out with Blaine's boyfriend. He snuck a peek at Kurt, who was pointedly staring at the floor. His eyes were drawn to Kurt's swollen lips. He had done that. He fought the urge to grin.

"Sam. Talk." He spun back around to his best friend.

"Yeah." He couldn't help but think this was the wrong answer.


	42. In Which Blaine Got It All Along

Blaine led Sam towards the abandoned Astronomy classroom. Sam couldn't help but feel he was being led to his doom. Blaine held the door open for Sam and then locked it shut, leaning against it. "So. Talk."

Sam's mouth opened in vain. "I…that…he…"

Blaine nodded, considering this. "Uh huh. That doesn't help me."

He walked over to Sam and sat beside him on a vacant desk. "How long have you liked Kurt, Sam?"

Sam's mouth dropped. "You…you knew?"

Blaine looked at him, unimpressed. "I am your best friend, after all. Please. Of course I knew."

Sam blushed deeply. "Yeah. Um…A while."

"And how long is a while?"

"Um…Since before you moved here."

Blaine cocked his head to the side and watched Sam carefully. "Kurt's Billy, isn't he?"

Sam looked down nervously. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you mad?" Sam asked his best friend quietly.

Blaine laughed faintly. "Mad?"

Sam blinked in confusion. "He's your boyfriend after all…"

"Oh Sammybean, you are precious…" Blaine turned to Sam, smirking slightly. "I'm glad you finally came to your senses."

Sam spluttered. "You WANTED Kurt and I together?"

"Well duh." He answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I was running out of ideas to get your jealous ass to make a move."

Sam blinked once and then again. Kurt's boyfriend wanted him with Kurt? What had the world come to?

Blaine seemed to notice this confusion. "Jeff's getting impatient with you as well…"

Sam blinked again. Jeff was a Warbler with bright bleach blonde hair and a wicked sense of humor. He was actually the one to suggest to Sam to dye his hair. "I don't see what Jeff has to do with this…"

Now Blaine blushed. Sam was completely lost at this point. Blaine didn't blush. That would indicate he had shame, which he obviously did not. "Jeff's my…He's my boyfriend."

"Since when?"

Blaine smiled softly, an expression that Sam had never seen on his best friend's face. "Couple months now. Since before I transferred. I really like him."

Sam blinked again. This was a lot to take in. "So…"

"So I'm going to break up with Kurt, so that my actual boyfriend can breathe a little easier knowing I'm not kissing another guy. And you're going to get your ass in gear and make a move and show him that you're ten times the man that I am. And then we're going to watch Rocky Horror. I've missed you but you've been too busy glaring at the back of my head to notice."

Sam smiled slightly. That sounded more like his best friend. He moved in for a hug. "Sounds good, dude. And you're not that bad…"

Blaine hugged him back and laughed. "Yeah, I am. You know that. And just for a warning: You hurt that boy, I will kick your ass. I do think he's awesome, but y'know, Jeff's more my type."

Sam laughed. "Noted."

Things were finally started to turn around now and he couldn't be happier.


	43. In Which It's Mostly Blaine's Fault

The choir room was quiet. That was Sam's first hint that something was seriously wrong. The choir room was never quiet. Ever. Rachel was always prattling on about something or someone was warming up. This was bad.

Mercedes had her arm wrapped around Kurt, comforting the boy. Sam saw the faint tear tracks streaming from his eyes. Oh. So that's what had happened.

He scanned the choir room and saw Blaine sitting alone at the top of the risers, staring stoically ahead. Sam took a seat next to him.

Blaine muttered. "I can't believe I made him cry. I was trying to make him happy, but he started crying and I told him that he wasn't my type but-"

Sam cut him off. "I think you did what was right."

Blaine turned to him, a slightly desperate look in his eye. "You better not make him cry. I can't see that again. Reminds me of Wes after someone stole his gavel sophomore year. Almost killed me to watch."

Sam patted his back and climbed back down the risers to attempt to comfort Kurt when a hand pulled him down.

"What the hell was that?" Puck's rough voice demanded quietly.

Sam made himself comfortable in the seat Puck had shoved him into. "It's…not what we think. Blaine's a good guy."

Puck scoffed. "Good. Yeah. Look at Hummel's face." His eyes drifted to where Quinn sat beside Kurt, stroking his back gently.

"It's a really really long story." Sam tried to explain. He knew it would take a lot of work to undo the picture of his best friend that he had painted to Puck and Quinn. "I actually think that you two could be close. Like the sex dolphin to your sex shark."

Puck looked at him bewildered. Sam waved him off. "Something that Brittany said. Don't worry about it."

"I'm not. I'm worried about your boy. Go fix him."

Sam nodded to Puck and continued down the riser. It was odd really. This entire situation had turned out far more convoluted than it would have if he had just told Blaine that he liked Kurt in the first place and made his move. But he was finally getting his chance, so he supposed that he couldn't complain much.

He stopped in front of Kurt and knelt down. "Kurt?"

Kurt sniffled into Mercedes' shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Sam. Tutoring's still on Friday like it's always been."

"No…I was wondering if you were okay. Maybe if you wanted to talk? I'm here."

Kurt looked up, biting his lower lip in consideration. Sam tried not to remember what it tasted like and failed. He stood up slowly. "Yeah. I think I do want to talk."

Sam stood aside and gestured towards the door. "Lead the way, Mr. Hummel."


	44. In Which Sam Finally Gets What He Wants

Kurt led Sam to the astronomy room. He stopped in the doorway, smiling faintly, remembering his conversation with Blaine there a few days before.

"…Sam?" He turned his attention to the other boy, now sitting on a nearby desk. God he was beautiful.

He moved over slowly, kneeling in front of Kurt. "Please don't cry, Kurt." Sam stroked his hands softly.

Kurt sniffled again. "I just…I really liked him. He told me there was someone else."

Sam's stomach dropped, wanting nothing more than to bury his fist in Blaine's face. He calmed himself down remembering all that Blaine had done for him and that he was actually the other person in their relationship (and Blaine's boyfriend Jeff, of course, but he had allowed Blaine to go through with his devious plan to make Sam finally make his move).

"I'm sure it wasn't like that…anyone would be lucky to have you, Kurt." Sam stood up and looped his arms around the brunette's torso. He was expecting him to cling back, maybe cry on his shoulder.

What he didn't expect was the hand pulling his head down and the soft lips under his. Sam melted, wrapping his arms tighter around the other boy before reality hit.

He pulled back as if electrified. "Kurt…wha-?"

Kurt tried to pull away, not looking Sam in the face, but Sam held firm. "Kurt? What was that?" His hand unconsciously stroked through Kurt's hair as he waited for an answer. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his mind racing. What if he just wasn't over Blaine? What if it was Blaine's dark curls he saw instead of his own long blond hair? He braced himself for the worst.

"Kurt…you just broke up with Blaine. I just don't understand…"

Kurt looked away. "You know…he asked me after we kissed if I had feelings for you." Sam's eyes widened at that, calming himself down for the inevitable letdown. "I said no." The blow to his gut, while not unexpected, was harder than he thought it would be. "I don't think he believed me."

Sam stroked Kurt's back, reminding himself that he was meant to be comforting Kurt, even if it felt like his heart was breaking inside. The boy that he loved was in love with someone else and completely destroyed by the fact that the person he loved didn't want him back.

Kurt was so quiet, Sam hardly heard him. "I don't think I believed me either."

Sam's hand froze on Kurt's back. "O-oh?"

"I…I really liked Blaine, but…" Kurt kept his eyes trained on the wall. "I really like you, Sam."

Sam pulled away far enough to look into Kurt's eyes. "I like you too."

The smile that appeared on Kurt's face outshone the sun. "Yeah?"

Sam smiled back at him and leaned their foreheads together. "Yeah."

Kurt let out a short pleased laugh before closing the difference between them and kissing Sam softly. Sam looped an arm around Kurt's waist and lost himself in the taste of the other boy's mouth before pulling away, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "…shouldn't we worry about being caught?"

He was surprised when Kurt responded with a laugh. "No. We don't actually have an astronomy class."

Sam frowned minutely. He was looking forward to taking that class if he could fit it in his schedule. But then again it answered some lingering questions he had about why this room was always used when one needed privacy at school. "Then why is there an astronomy classroom?"

Kurt shrugged. "It's McKinley. When do things ever make sense around here?"

Sam had to concede that he had a point.

Kurt took Sam's hand and looked down nervously. "Do I have to worry about you breaking my heart like he did?"

Sam's chest throbbed at those words. "Never."

The brunette smiled up at him. "Good."

"Actually…" Sam couldn't let Blaine be the bad guy here. He was his best friend after all and only looking out for his best interests. "I think that you and Blaine could be good friends."

Kurt seemed doubtful. "After that?"

Sam winced. "Maybe give it time? He's…I think he's a good guy. Or he's trying to be. He doesn't always succeed, but he does try."

Kurt nodded thoughtfully, eyes focused on Sam's lips. "Do you really want to talk about Blaine right now?"

He certainly was good at getting back to the topic at hand, Sam mused. He shook his head and moved back in for a kiss, Kurt's arms linking together around his neck.

"I want to take you out, Kurt."

He hummed against Sam's lips. "That sounds nice."

"Somewhere fancy. Somewhere you deserve. Show you off to everybody."

Kurt laughed delightedly, pulling away but keeping his arms around Sam. "You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, but I want to. You're special and you deserve to be treated as such."

Kurt sighed dreamily, smiling at Sam. "I think this will work out just fine, Mr. Evans."

And for the first time since he transferred to McKinley High School, Sam thought it just might as well.

-The End-

**_A/N: Finally finished. To everyone still sticking around, thank you so much. It's not quite the fifty chapters I thought it would be, but I hope you still enjoy it. To everyone that read, reviewed, or alerted this story, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I couldn't have finished it (at last) without all of you. :) _**


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